The Kimono She Wore
by Blue Jeans
Summary: In a time of darkness and mystery, an assassin running from his past will meet a woman who will change his life forever and an adventure of a lifetime will begin, crossing time and becoming legend. (Sesshoumaru/Kagome; AU) Currently on-hold
1. Prologue Fire

* Author: blue  
* Email: blueweber@hotmail.com  
* Genre: Drama/Angst/Romance  
* Summary: Born in a war torn era in Japan, a young girl witness the death of her family and   
clan to the hands of hatred, greed and power. Taken in by a mountain shrine, she becomes a   
miko of healing. That is, until a wondering and disillusioned assassin breaks through her   
peaceful world. Wounded and seeking revenge, he unwittingly finds himself depending on the   
aid of the priestess to help heal him from his wounds. There an adventure begins and a   
story that echoes through time with magick and mystery. (Sesshoumaru/Kagome)  
* Rated: PG-13 (for violence and other contents)  
  
  
  
The Kimono She Wore  
******************  
.blue.  
  
The mountain streams flows,  
Breaking through the ice.  
The strength of fluid steel  
Carries the scent of winter  
through the lands.  
  
  
.Prologue.  
(Fire)  
  
  
The burning straw roof crumbled, cutting her off from her brother. Her mother had   
already died from the sword slash down her back, the blood darkened the beautiful kimono   
mother wore. She, on the other hand, had just barely escaped her own death, having dodged   
just in time to make it to the other side of her collapsing home. But Souta did not make it   
and he cried as if knowing the doomed fate approaching him, his little hands reaching for   
help that his helpless sister could not give being blocked by the pieces of collapsed roof   
and fire. She was rooted to the ground watching her baby brother trapped beneath their dead   
mother's arms, wiggling to get away from the smoke and heat.  
  
He was crying out for her, she was sure. Crying out for her to save him!  
  
"Foolish girl!" A curse came from behind her and she was too afraid to turn her   
eyes away from Souta. Too afraid of what the man would do to her. Other men had come and   
they had beaten her, ripping at her mother's clothes as she watched horrified and in pain.   
Her mother though, had fought, fought to the point in which the bandits given up on raping   
her and just stabbed her in the back. Through it all, Mama had tried to protect Souta and   
herself.  
  
Maybe she'll join Mama soon.  
  
"Souta," she whimpered and tried to reach him past the flames but the fire roared in   
her way, scorching her as she stumbled back in fear.  
  
Her body was hurt from the beating she took from the horrible men that destroyed   
her home and small village, laying destruction wherever they went. "Ojii-san!" She   
whimpered, but Grandpa was already dead along side her mother. She wanted to save Souta,   
but the fire scared her.  
  
"Come on, little girl!" the voice came again, as the man had obviously returned to   
find her still alive. Shaking where she stood before she felt none too gentle hands grasp   
her shoulders and pull her away.  
  
"Souta!" She cried out then at her wailing baby brother who was left to the flames.   
"Souta!" She kept screaming his name, trying to struggle away from the grip around her   
waist.  
  
She heard cursing from the man carrying her and when her voice became hoarse and the   
distant screaming from her house and her village fell to echoes, she lay across the harsh   
shoulder of the man who carried her away, weeping. Weeping at her own damned luck.   
Weeping at the loss of her beloved family.  
  
At last the man stopped and she was set onto the ground again, harshly enough that   
she whimpered. A pale face loomed over hers as brown eyes bore down at her, "There's a   
shrine near here, girl." The man told her, "But I cannot go there, for there are other   
villages that needs to be warned. I'm sorry I came too late to save yours. But if you wish   
to live, follow the sight of that tree," he pointed to the tall shadowed tree in the   
distance. She her eyes traveled upwards into the dark night sky, looking in the direction   
he pointed to and found herself gasping at the sight of the mountains in the distance. "I   
cannot help you more," the man sighed. "It is all I can do, you, the last survivor of the   
Higurashi clan, its heir and only survivor. War is a harsh thing for children to   
experience." He set his hand on her shoulder and whispered words that she never would fully   
understand but always remembered, "My debt is now paid."  
  
"Who are you?" She gripped his robes and tugged. Her fear momentarily forgotten as   
she looked on in wonder at the large man who saved her.  
  
"A priest," he answered reluctantly before sweeping by her easily.  
  
Then the man walked away and she was left alone in the dark forest, with nothing to   
guide her but the tall shadow in the distance. A menacing beckon she knew but she ignored   
the part of herself that wanted to curl up and die. Her baby brother's scream was still   
fresh on her mind as she trudged towards her new destination, wondering if she'll ever   
escape the nightmare that sleep might bring to her. Wondering if she will forever be   
haunted by the weeping face of Souta, his small hands reaching for hers as she failed to   
save him again and again.  
  
So she journeyed forward, too afraid of what might happen if she stopped to let the   
darkness take over her. Not wanting to know what awaited her behind the black void behind   
her closed eyes. When she finally reached the stairs of the shrine, she was exhausted and   
morning crept over the trees, spilling light onto her tired eyes. She half climbed and   
half crawled up the steps, fumbling before she reached the torii at last. The deep   
exhaustion settled into her bones and as she rested her back against one red wooden beam,   
looking to the blue sky above her head, she fell into the dreamless sleep of white   
exhaustion.  
  
* * *  
  
Early that morning, a young shrine maiden found a dirty girl child curled up under   
the great torii of the shrine as she was going about her chores. The little body was   
covered with blood, bruises and burns. Gasping, the maiden brought the miko in charge of   
the sacred shrine to the torii to show her the discovery. The old woman ordered the   
unconscious child to be picked up from her resting place near the steps. The girl was   
obviously too tired to even stir, not even once did she acknowledge her surroundings as   
they moved her from the hard ground to place her into a more comfortable futon.  
  
"She had a long night, this one," the old woman observed. "But she's still alive.   
What a strong spirit she must have."  
  
"Who is this?" The young woman who found the little girl asked with curiosity.  
  
The old miko smiled as they laid the child down into a hastily prepared futon, "A   
child," the old woman replied sadly. "A child of this new war driven era."  
  
The younger took those words to heart with equal sorrow, "Can we heal her?"  
  
The question had many layers of meanings and the elder looked to the younger beside   
her, "Yes," the miko answered with conviction. "Her soul has steel in it, this child. I   
have a feeling she would grow to amaze us all."  
  
Nodding in agreement, the younger soon went out to fetch water and bandages as the   
shrine hummed with the buzz of a new member.  
  
Lifting a gnarled old hand, the miko swept away strands of black hair and studied   
the young girl's face. "Higurashi's child," she muttered. "Such power and strength I sense   
in you, I hope you will be able to find peace here that your ancestors never found. For   
here, they have guided you, little one. The hidden shrine of the Mountain Stream, the   
forest of healers. Perhaps, we might even heal your wounded heart, hmm?"  
  
Yet, the little girl slept without answering. Silence falling over the room as the   
old miko watched over her.  
  
Outside, a single leaf drifted to the ground, announcing the arrival Autumn.  
  
  
  
to be continued...  
  
***************************************************************************************  
  
Ahhh, the more serious of my two romance stories for Inuyasha. Don't worry, I will  
soon write one exclusively for Inuyasha and Kagome, however, this is not one of them.   
This is solely an AU about Sesshoumaru and Kagome. I hope you enjoy this story, I  
already written the whole outline and I think I will really like how this turns out :)  
  
  
The poem in the beginning is mine.  
  
  
I don't own Inuyasha; but I wish I owned all of the episodes, the manga and the movie so I   
can watch it and read it over and over again... ^-^v If only ;_;  
  
.blue.  
blueweber@hotmail.com 


	2. Part I Cleansing, A Waking Dream

* Author: blue  
* Email: blueweber@hotmail.com  
* Genre: Drama/Angst/Romance  
* Summary: Born in a war torn era in Japan, a young girl witness the death of her family and   
clan to the hands of hatred, greed and power. Taken in by a mountain shrine, she becomes a   
miko of healing. That is, until a wondering and disillusioned assassin breaks through her   
peaceful world. Wounded and seeking revenge, he unwittingly finds himself depending on the   
aid of the priestess to help heal him from his wounds. There an adventure begins and a   
story that echoes through time with magick and mystery. (Sesshoumaru/Kagome)  
* Rated: PG-13 (for violence and other contents)  
  
  
The Kimono She Wore  
******************  
.blue.  
  
The mountain streams flows,  
Breaking through the ice.  
The strength of fluid steel  
Carries the scent of winter  
through the lands.  
  
  
.Part I.  
(Cleansing, A Waking Dream)  
  
Fue adonde a mi me perdieron  
que logre por fin encontrarme?  
  
(Was it where they lost me  
that I finally found myself?)  
  
-- Pablo Neruda  
("The Book of Questions")  
  
  
  
Splash.  
  
The cold fingers of the water droplets ran itself down her back, seeping into the   
white shift she wore until it was almost see-through as it clung to her goose fleshed skin   
that was roughened in reaction to the cold. She shivered only slightly now, remembering the   
hours she had spent here, in this stream, and being cleansed as each new year came by. The   
celebration for the coming Spring had began. Only this year it was different for   
Higurashi Kagome. This year she would be the one running the celebration of new life that   
has returned.  
  
It had been nine years since she arrived at the Mountain Stream.  
  
Her fingers felt numb as she slipped the wooden bucket into the lake. It sent drops   
of icy water in every direction before she lifted it into the air once more and dumped the   
content of it over one shoulder.  
  
Small drops clung to her dark hair as she cleared her mind and tried to focus. I   
must not think of the cold, she reprimanded herself as another shiver wrecked her body.   
She should've been used to this by now, considering the number of times she had already   
gone through the ritual. Without further thought, she repeated the ritual of cleansing   
once more, turning her mind from the bitter cold of the stream and the cool breeze that   
caused more goose-bumps to appear over her pale arms.  
  
"Chiisai Kawa-sama," a soft voice interrupted her concentration. "We're ready for   
you."  
  
Unused to the formalities directed at her, Kagome hid it while behind a composed   
smile and nod to the young miko kneeling at the edge of the lake. Upon seeing her message   
delivered, the other bowed and then quickly disappeared back into the forest, heading for   
the shrine.  
  
Apart of her was still amazed that the late Chiisai Kawa had died and past the   
shrine duties down to her. The winter past had been especially bitter and with it, it took   
the aging spirit of the old head priestess of the shrine. They had to wait till the white   
snow melted and the ground was once again soft enough to dig before they buried the old   
miko's ashes and bones. The late Chiisai Kawa was gone now with the snow and it saddened   
her greatly to think on it, weighing down her limbs with the great weight of depression.   
The old woman had been the only other family she had ever known since the death of her own,   
and now, she too was gone.  
  
She wadded quietly to the edge of the water, sending ripples over the calm of the   
lake that reflected the clear, crisp skies. The surface of the glass was only blackened in   
the shadows of the trees, and as she approached, the last breath of winter passed through   
the foliage overhead, sending chills down her spine. Picking her white shift from the   
water's edge, it glistened in the sunlight that seeped into the shade, shining like newly   
falling snow that had congealed onto the dark bark of an old pine. Rising out of the   
waters, she parted the surface as she lifted herself up, sending clear liquid in every   
which way as it cascaded over her submerged body before returning to the lake. Her small   
feet touched the thick grass, and when she was finished dressing, she took a deep breath to   
calm her racing heart as she finished donning on the last piece of her ceremonial robes.   
Tightening the sash around her waist, she let her hands fall away. Reasoning that the   
slight tremble in them was from the cold and not from her own tense, nervousness. With   
that, Kagome raised her head up high to face the responsibilities of her new duties.  
  
Chiisai Kawa-sama, she thought to herself in despair, why did you have to go? Why   
did you have to leave me this title and the duties that will always remind me of you and   
your motherly smiles? Why?  
  
Even as these turmoil-filled questions raced throughout her mind and heart, her face   
was composed in a mask of calm dignity. Like the thin crust of ice that still lingered on   
the shadowed edges of the ebony waters, it had yet to break.  
  
  
* * *  
  
  
She concentrated her mind's eyes onto the target and let her arrow fly. It had   
been two months since she had been made the head miko of the Mountain Stream Shrine after   
the death of the last Chiisai Kawa. Kagome has now taken up the title and the   
rigorous duties of miko-hood as well. It amazed her how life had turned out for her. Back   
when she was but a girl child, she never would have dreamed that here was where she would   
end up, and that this would be the woman she would become.  
  
The arrow struck true, the force of impact caused the wooden end of the shaft to   
quiver. All around her flowers were blooming and the cherry blossoms over head has budded   
once more. She relaxed her stance and let her arms fall, her mind too occupied with thoughts   
to care.  
  
Still, she tried to admire the weather beaten trunks, dark and gnarled. It brought   
out the striking contrast of youthful colors as young blossoms came to life. The twisted   
bark, rough and cool to touch under her warm fingers reminded her of the old hands of the   
late Chiisai Kawa. She could still recall those fevered nights when she had first arrived   
at the temple, waking from those horrible nightmares with tears streaking down her face and   
the old woman patiently waiting by her side. Those strong hands, roughened by the working   
life of a miko, had gently and firmly pushed her back to bed, smoothed her sweaty brows   
before ordering her to go back to sleep.  
  
She was a weak child then, trying to escape the horrible fate that had befallen her   
family and her clan.  
  
Remembering the old Chiisai Kawa while watching the world come back to life brought   
back other happy and nostalgic memories of the past. Kagome remembered the green, verdant   
fields of spring filled with flowers. She remembered the first time Mother had took Souta   
out into the clear Springtime day. She had to fight back both the joy and the sorrow of the   
memories of him cooing under the brilliant azure skies, dozing in Mama's arms as the   
tall grasses brushed against her mother's kimono and the roughly spun, brown apron that Mama   
wore to prevent her kimono from being dirtied. If Kagome thought hard enough, she could   
picture Ojii-san at home babbling to the village children, telling them great adventures   
about the proud history of the Higurashi clan. And there, by the foothills she'd sit and   
gossip with her friends after a long day in the fields, helping her uncles and cousins   
plant the new crops.  
  
So many memories cherished, and yet, many times unwanted. There was so much pain in   
the past that her heart felt too weak to carry. Still she stood beneath the white shower of   
spring time flowers, though all her eyes could see was the broken promises and forgotten   
dreams of the past...  
  
In her days of youth, Kagome had never realized that peace was a fleeting thing. In   
those days she had always dreamt the dreams of a sheltered girl, never imagining the   
impact of hatred, death, and violence. And now, she was a priestess, trying to help her   
people preserve the goodness of their hearts and their worlds, protecting those under her   
care from evils of both the physical and the spiritual.  
  
So here was where she had traveled, weathering the storm of humanity for others   
while trying to capture those moments in her childhood that had been so innocent.   
Yet remembering past innocence both pained her and comforted her. Like adulthood, the fire   
that had taken away her brother had come for her in the end. The outside world intruded   
into her own peaceful one, leaving a path of destruction in her heart, scarring her forever.   
The only reason she survived was because of simple luck and faith, a gift given to her by   
the old Chiisai Kawa before she had passed away.  
  
A petal drifted past her startled face as she snapped out of her reveries. She   
turned her head and looked to the same azure sky, so similar to the one of her past and of   
her memories. Kagome reached out her hand and caught the drifting white petal that was   
snowing down over the new pink buds of cherry blossoms. She paused to watch the early   
blooms of another tree waver in the soft breeze of spring.  
  
A flower must shed its petals to bear fruit, Kagome reflected on those words uttered   
to her by the old Chiisai Kawa.  
  
It was an unending cycle that will always be painful...  
  
*But do not despair Kagome, for even though the flower may look fragile, life begins   
at her heart. And though she may sacrifice her blossoms because of the winds of age, every   
humble tree knows where its roots had first been made to bloom.*  
  
Those words brought her comfort and peace like the old woman had always done before.  
  
Chiisai Kawa-sama, Kagome thought to herself in sadness as she clutched the white   
collar of her miko robes, I miss you.  
  
  
* * *  
  
  
The village down the mountain had been wreaked with disease that spring, and Death   
set over the people like an unavoidable stench. Higurashi Kagome, now the Chiisai Kawa of   
the Mountain Stream Shrine, had gone to the pleading people who lived at the steps of the   
great mountains with her miko apprentices. Her presence had calmed the hysterics as her   
touch seemed to have healed those closest to death. With her, she had brought much needed   
medicine and herbs, as in her hands she held baskets of hand picked plants from the   
mountains where they grew in misty places, far from wondering eyes.  
  
The Chiisai Kawa's smile brought peace to the village as did her presence, pacifying   
the terror to only a small pin-pricked fear. Soon, many of the sick got better and so when   
the last man healed, the mysterious miko with her warm heart and gentle smile, bowed   
kindly to the people and left. Taking with her only the small amount of food that the   
village could spare and refusing any other type of payment, Kagome and her apprentices  
disappeared back into the mists of the mountains.  
  
And they called her a gift from the gods, or at least, that's what he had heard.  
  
Sesshoumaru had passed the village but a few hours ago in the dark. Clutching to   
his stomach in agony while trying to ignore the pain that throbbed throughout the rest of   
his body. In the dark alleys of the village he had overheard the grave voices discussing   
this mysterious miko and her healing touch. Some in the village feared her even as she   
healed them, but most respected the woman greatly and treated her name with reverence. They   
said that she lived in the hidden shrine somewhere within the mountains, cut off from the   
rest of Japan and its political world. They say she cares for all who goes to her for help   
be it friends or enemies, and that she had hidden powers that neither the last Chiisai Kawa   
nor any of the Chiisai Kawa before her, had.  
  
To be truthful about the whole thing, he wasn't really interested in any of the   
rumors. He was searching only for a place to hid from his enemies before he healed and   
think of a plan to avenge himself on them. This place and this miko sounded like   
the perfect place for him to go for whatever time it will take for him to heal. Someone   
secluded from the rest of the war ridden Japan and choosing to side with neither. It was   
only his luck that he had stumbled across the healing mountain as well, a place he had   
only heard in whispered myths and legends.  
  
Mountain Stream, huh? He brushed away the bang of his dirty hair, despising how he   
smelled and despising the sight he probably made at this moment, as well. Carefully   
avoiding the lighted windows of the huddled huts, he passed the village and moved on,   
leaving a trail of his blood behind him and hoping that the May rain will wash it away   
before anyone could see it. Picking up a stick during his journey onwards, he trudged   
higher and higher into the mountains, feeling his body numb from the exertion needed to   
accomplish the task he had in mind. He was amazed he had gotten this far, for once glad   
that his distinguishable pale hair was hidden beneath the dirt and grim, though he didn't   
like being so dirty anymore even if it had turned out to be an advantage. It had some use,   
him being this disgusting, true, but he still hated the feeling of it all.  
  
He slept only somewhat that night, uneasily watching the stars overhead while ever   
alert in case someone decides to sneak up to him and slit his throat in the middle of the   
night. He wondered if the bastard war lord who betrayed him realized that he wasn't dead   
yet, and hoped that the other assumed it to be true so that when he recovered, the element   
of surprise would be on his side. "Kami-sama," he choked out as he clutched to his stomach,   
trying very hard to not break the blood that had congealed already to seal his wound. It   
was a while before he fell into a fitful and dreamless sleep.  
  
Sesshoumaru woke to the splattering, fat droplets of an early morning drizzle. He   
rose cautiously and decided that it was time to move on. Hungry but having not the   
strength to catch game, he ate berries from a nearby tree and kept going, hoping to reach   
the mysterious Mountain Stream in time. The drizzle helped cover his bloodied tracks and   
he was glad for the cool water that washed away some of the grim and sweat on his body.   
But it didn't help his wound and his movement soon left him bleeding again.  
  
It was a miracle he had even made it to the lake, dying of thirst he had drank   
earlier at the stream that led him to the black lagoon. Sesshoumaru was ashamed of his   
earlier behavior when he had splashed the water to his face like a savage, too thirsty and   
weak to care to have his usual manners, though it did prick his pride to see himself act   
so uncouth through the blurry reflection in the stream. When he satisfied his thirst, he   
decided to go down stream, following the black waters to wherever it is that it might lead   
him. He was in too good of a mood by then to care, though he knew his body had seen better   
days than this. And by luck he got to the edge of a hidden lake, but it was not the lake   
that made him catch his breath at the water's edge. Pushing back the darkness of exhaustion   
from both a loss of blood and the pain that throb throughout his body, Sesshoumaru found   
himself gazing over reflective surface, for there, under the sparkling noon day sun that lit   
the silk, inky waters with drops of gold, a woman bathed.  
  
No, not a woman, he reasoned, for her skin was too fair in its transparent luster to   
belong to a mortal. It glistened and shined, decorated by sparkling drops of dewy waters.   
Her black locks fell down her back, cascading like a ebony silk as the ends emerged and   
floated over the water's surface. Long lashes quivered over pink cheeks, her body glowing   
from the cold as golden sunlight of spring illuminated her figure, and she shone like Venus   
in the evening skies. The nymph strayed from the shadows of the forest that hovered over   
the water's edge, and stooped to cup the cool liquid into her hand. Her hair shifted as a   
cause of her movement, hiding her face through transparent strands of hair, the color of a  
raven's wing.  
  
Sesshoumaru leaned weakly against the trunks, his legs no longer supporting him in a   
standing position and as he sled onto the soft, grassy ground. He wondered if she would be   
the one to lead him into the after life. And as he watched her bathe, his vision began to   
blur, and soon, all he could sense was the deep, earthy smell rising from the ground.   
Hearing the soft splashing of water that she had created echoing in his ears, as if the   
sound came from a distance, he wondered if she would be the last thing he would ever see in   
this life. The last thing he felt though was a dew drop splashing onto his cheek from the   
leaves overhead, sliding down his tanned skin like a tear.  
  
"Tennyo," he whispered into the darkness behind his eyes that he had no more the   
strength to keep open. Calling to her softly and requesting that she take him into the arms  
of Kami-sama.  
  
Somewhere he heard a gasp in the distance but his world was already going black.   
Yet as he tittered on the edge of consciousness, he saw a slither of light come through his   
closed lids. And she was there, bathing in the black waters as he drowned into oblivion.  
  
There was no replay to his call and none that could wake him.  
  
  
  
to be continued...  
  
******************************************************************************************  
The poem in the very beginning is mine.  
  
* Chiisai Kawa is a title that I made up. At first I wanted it to be a name but then I   
thought it would be better as a title. It means Little/Tiny Stream. I wanted it to be   
that from an old story about how drops of water can wear a hole through stone given time.   
And as my favorite book of all time pointed out, "That which yields is not always weak."  
* Tennyo is Japanese for heavenly maiden, or a maiden from the skies. Sesshoumaru is   
somewhat delirious at the time and thinks that he is seeing a water nymph/spirit.  
  
  
blue ^-^ 


	3. Part II The Healing Touch of the Tennyo

* Author: blue  
* Email: blueweber@hotmail.com  
* Genre: Drama/Angst/Romance  
* Summary: Born in a war torn era in Japan, a young girl witness the death of her family and   
clan to the hands of hatred, greed and power. Taken in by a mountain shrine, she becomes a   
miko of healing. That is, until a wondering and disillusioned assassin breaks through her   
peaceful world. Wounded and seeking revenge, he unwittingly finds himself depending on the   
aid of the priestess to help heal him from his wounds. There an adventure begins and a   
story that echoes through time with magick and mystery. (Sesshoumaru/Kagome)  
* Rated: PG-13 (for violence and other contents)  
  
  
The Kimono She Wore  
******************  
.blue.  
  
The mountain streams flows,  
Breaking through the ice.  
The strength of fluid steel  
Carries the scent of winter  
through the lands.  
  
  
.Part II.  
(The Healing Touch of the Tennyo)  
  
"Your joy is your sorrow unmasked."  
-- Kahlil Gibran  
("The Prophet")  
  
Sesshoumaru was awake in an instant. The morning sunlight crept through the papered   
screens of the windows and doors. The smooth smell of wood surrounded him and the warmth of   
the futon made it easier for him to pretend sleep. He had sensed another's lingering   
presence immediately. The soft smell of cherry blossoms wafted to his nose, intensifying as   
the paper door quietly slid open and then closed.  
  
Judging by the near silent approach, the person was graceful. The rustling of   
clothing told him that the other had probably knelt and the soft clinking of china was set   
near the head of his futon. A gentle hand touched his forehead before brushing his cheeks,   
and then a piece of cool cloth was set on his forehead, washing away earlier perspiration   
and clearing his mind. Through it all, Sesshoumaru had to fight every instinct in his body   
to remain relaxed and still. He felt as if the great pressure to open his eyes and confront   
a possible enemy increasing the pace of his heart, filling his mind with a thousand possible   
and thoroughly outrageous scenarios.  
  
Soft robes brushed his cheeks and the smell of sakura blossoms cancelled out all   
other smells that he had sensed earlier in the room. The cool clothes dabbed his dry,   
cracked lips and he forced himself not to press his mouth into a thin line of disproval. He   
waited for the other to turn to leave so that he could further assess his situation,   
unwilling to admit that the coolness on his lips reminded him of the dryness in his throat.   
A soft sigh came from his companion and he now knew that it was a female that was hovering   
over him. He wasn't sure if he should be relieved or even more on guard.  
  
Where was he anyway? Did he make it to the Mountain Stream or was he captured?   
Were they waiting for him to awaken before interrogating him?  
  
And then he remembered seeing the tennyo in the lake. Like a single drop of water,   
a thousand other soon became distorted and distant to the first as it emerged and fermented   
in his mind in crystal clarity. Stubbornly though, he fought back that memory and buried it   
into the back of his mind, allowing much more pressing matters to take his full attention.   
An ever-persistent question rang throughout his mind, am I dead? Yet, when he clutched his   
fist slightly under the futon, causing his muscles to tense, pain like a ache went   
throughout his body.  
  
Did he dream of the tennyo in his delirium?  
  
The rough opening of the door cut off his brooding as did the movement of the female   
next to him, both paused at the scuffle of feet that rushed into the room. Soon voices   
filled the room with questions, comments and squealing laughter. All around him, the air   
hummed with conversation and excitement, breaking away the peace like a caterpillar breaks   
its cocoon and comes out in a riot of colors.  
  
"How is the strange man?"  
  
"He is so beautiful!"  
  
"Can I touch his hair?"  
  
"Chiisai Kawa-sama, he does not look dead to me."  
  
"Of course not, Tenoko-baka, after all, he is under Kagome's watch."  
  
"Kagome? Aren't you being a bit informal?"  
  
"Well, you should have seen him when Chiisai Kawa-sama first brought him in!"  
  
"He was dirty then too."  
  
"And smelly!"  
  
"I've never seen a man this beautiful before!"  
  
"At first I thought he was a girl, too."  
  
Under the infernal ruckus, Sesshoumaru was about ready to burst with indignation and   
annoyance. That is until a soft, commanding voice silenced everyone in the room. A slender   
hand touched his shoulder, startling him to almost snapping his eyes open to glare at the   
woman's audacity. "Everyone is just curious about you," she said. His whole body tensed   
beneath her fingers. "But it is better to leave him to his rest," this time the comment was   
directed gently to all who was in the room.  
  
"Yes, of course, Chiisai Kawa-sama." Someone agreed from the crowd that surrounded   
his futon.  
  
Defeated, the others left. Some grumbling about knowing they shouldn't have joined   
the larger group and barged in, in the first place. When the room was once again quiet,   
warmed by golden light and filled with the soft May breeze, it was only then that her warm   
hand left his shoulder. Even still he felt the imprint of her hand on his flesh, the   
callous on the soft pads of her palm had scraped against his sensitive, pale skin in her   
careful movements. "How did you know I was awake?" He finally asked after a long period of   
silence that was occasionally broken by soft clinking noises. When she didn't answer   
immediately, he opened his eyes at last to face her.  
  
Sesshoumaru, for the few times in his life, was amazed at what he saw. The woman   
before him was the very tennyo he had thought was but a dream at the lake. Her beauty had   
not diminished as she watched him with kind, blue-grey eyes. She wore the traditional garb   
of a miko's, and if he didn't know better, she was the woman he had heard about at the foot   
of the mountain.  
  
Sesshoumaru had seen many beautiful women in his life, in court and on assignments.   
From them he had learned that it was with these women that one should be the most cautious   
around. However, even though he had thought himself immune to the physical facade bestowed   
upon another pretty face, having spent his life seeing those like that paraded before him,   
there was something about her that had captured even his jaded and critical tastes.  
  
"So, you are the Chiisai Kawa," he said at last, guarding his emotions behind a mask   
of indifference.  
  
Her face broke into a soft smile that was disarming in the way that she seemed to   
glow at him, setting him on his guard at the cause of the emotions she stirred. "Are you   
feeling better now?" She asked instead of answering his question and confirming his   
suspicions.  
  
Sesshoumaru flexed his hands and realized that they had not disarmed him entirely.   
The small dagger strapped to his forearm was still there, hidden under white bandages and   
ready to be released at a moment's notice. He looked to the miko who returned to grinding   
the medicine in her bowl next to him as she patiently waited for his answer to her question.   
However, Sesshoumaru's mind had immediately begun to suspect foul play. In less than the   
blink of an eye, he had ripped the knife from its hiding place and glided the blade in a   
smooth upward motion, stopping but a hair's breath before her throat. His golden eyes   
flashed as he bore his gaze onto hers, yet surprisingly, she showed no fear, only startled   
surprise as the knife edge pricked her pale skin and a drop of crimson appeared. "What is   
this place?" He asked in a quiet and dangerous voice. He bared his teeth at her savagely   
to mask the pain that shot throughout his body and cursing himself for forgetting his   
earlier injuries.  
  
"This is the Mountain Stream, the healing shrine of the mountains." She replied   
calmly, unruffled that he might end her life any moment he choose now. Her eyes though were   
concerned and he frowned at her reaction.  
  
"So, you are the Chiisai Kawa?" He asked again and her silent gaze was his only   
answer. "Aren't you a bit young?"  
  
The tennyo's gaze hardened at this jib, "I did not ask to be the Chiisai Kawa," her   
voice had steel behind it before she realized that he had been purposely needling her to   
answer his question. Those mysterious eyes that she wielded like a mirror to her soul   
turned into a stormy grey as her hand rose and touched his tensed wrist. He fought the urge   
to press the knifepoint closer to her throat but her grip never tightened past her gentle   
touch. "You should lie down," she told him softly in the end. "You probably reopened your   
wounds when you got up so quickly."  
  
The Chiisai Kawa's murmured suggestion made him want to relax, but he narrowed his   
eyes at her instead. "Are you a witch?" He finally asked in a cold voice, "To reason with   
me thusly and poison me when I'm at my weakest."  
  
The woman-child glared at him, thoroughly annoyed at his haughty and suspicious tone   
of voice. "If I wanted you dead I would have left you by the lake where I found you." She   
told him hotly, her eyes flashing with ire and turning into the color of electric blue.  
  
Sesshoumaru was confused why he sought to agitate her, nor could he understand the   
reason behind him thinking her more beautiful, angry. She must be a witch, Sesshoumaru   
concluded, himself enraged at her attempts to enchant him. Yet, she was right, she could   
have left him to die at the water's edge, the thing that his body had been so willing to do   
at the time. Then he remembered in that moment why he must live. Casting one last   
suspicious glance at her, noting how her eyes has calmed again as she faced him, Sesshoumaru   
pulled back and returned the dagger to its place next to his wrist.  
  
The woman kept looking at him, studying his every movement and he almost snapped at   
her in her silent observations. But this time she spoke without being spoken to, "I cannot   
heal you completely unless you let me," her blue-grey eyes implored him to cooperate.  
  
"I don't need your aid," he replied icily.  
  
"You obviously did if you have come to the mountains with so grievous a wound. No   
one could have found this place unless they desired so from within. You must have been   
guided here." With that said, she reached her hands out to him again, her eyes searched his   
with a questioned gaze as she touched the bandage around his waist. "Will you turn around   
please?" He stubbornly refused her in his silence and she sighed at his childishness.  
  
The Chiisai Kawa's nearness surprised him greatly, and he looked down to see her   
dark head slightly pressed to his chest as her arms encircled his waist. Apart of him   
wondered if she had no decency whatsoever, but he also knew from the stubborn concern in her   
voice earlier that she was not getting any pleasure out of this. Nimble fingers ran down   
along his spine, distracting him from his thoughts before they found the place where the   
bandage end had been held and fastened. She didn't complain about this whole arrangement,   
though he was sure that she knew her nearness was torture enough for them both. Having had   
enough of her trying to undo the bandage this way, he grasped her shoulders and pushed her   
back. Looking at him with an amused raise of her delicate brow and a faint flush of   
embarrassment tinting her cheeks, he turned his back to her without a word. He did not turn   
away quick enough to miss the look of relief on her face at this, her eyes sparkling with   
that nameless emotion. "Do it quick and get it over with," he told her harshly, wanting to   
end her mirth and her triumph.  
  
She answered with her fingers, slipping them easily under the bandage without   
hesitation or clumsiness, unwrapping it carefully to avoid some of the bruises on his back.   
"Thank you," her whispered breath brushed against his back. Sesshoumaru narrowed his   
golden gaze at the dark walls, contrasting with the white paper windows, refusing to   
acknowledge her gratitude.  
  
  
* * *  
  
  
Kagome watched him sleep under the moonlight. Her shadow cast unto that narrow   
strip of light that streamed into the room as she stood at the doorway of the one he resided   
within. Her apprentices and friends were right in pointing out how beautiful he really was.   
There was no denying that even when he was hidden under all that grime when she found him,   
even then she could not but let out a startled breath of surprise and fascination at the   
sight of his unconscious face.  
  
That morning when he had opened his golden eyes, she had wanted to gasp in surprise   
again at the intensity of his gaze. She had only known one person with eyes of that color   
before, and his gaze had never been so piercing. The stranger's pale, silver hair was now,   
not the only thing that fascinated her about this man, his stubborn refusal of help had   
amused her but she would not allow him to suffer because of his pride. She amended that she   
had never been so fascinated with anyone else before, not since... her eyes closed at this   
as she clutched at her miko robes. No, there had been someone like this once who she had   
shared her first stolen kiss beneath the great bough of the sakura trees, but he had   
disappeared into the mountain mists when he decided to enter the outside world once more to   
discover his destiny and to fulfill his honor.  
  
Baka! Her mind screamed at the memories of her childhood, she shook her head at the   
bitter thoughts, her sadness seeping through in the end nonetheless. "Baka," she whispered,   
only this time it was directed at herself.  
  
The boy of her past had broken both her heart and his promise long ago. She knew   
she should forget him like the many other things that had caused her pain in her past.  
  
This man was different though, she thought, trying desperately to steer herself away   
from times already gone. This man did not wish to stay and did not love her. Yet his pride   
and appearance was similar to that boy of her past. Did she dare hope? Still, this   
stranger did not recognize her. The boy and the man were not the same.  
  
Kagome rested her head against the doorframe, defeated. Her eyes closed as she   
tried to locate the calm within herself once more, forcing herself to balance her stormy   
emotions. She didn't want to remember that boy or any of the memories of her past. She   
grounded her teeth at her own weakness. I am a miko trained, she scolded herself angrily,   
and I am shaming my own training with these thoughts of despair for things already gone and   
done.  
  
Straightening her back with determination, she cast one last worried glance over her   
shoulder at her wounded ward before quietly closing the door, enclosing the room to darkness   
once more.  
  
Still, I hope he recovers soon, Kagome thought to herself as she leaned her back   
against the door, then he wouldn't be so angry at the world because of his own helplessness.   
Kagome blinked away such thoughts before she pushed herself up to leave and traveled down   
the walkway towards her own room. Glancing one last time at the waning moon in the sky that   
shed a pale halo around the grey streaked clouds of the night sky, she soundlessly slid   
close her door to the outside world.  
  
The pregnant scent of the coming summer seeped onto the courtyard grounds as the   
moon continued to watched on in the midnight sky, indifferent and pale.  
  
  
to be continued...  
  
********************************************************************************************  
* Sakura is Japanese for Cherry Blossoms  
* baka is Japanese for idiot  
* -sama is a very formal address, like lady. I am not sure exactly how head mikos are  
addressed in japan, so I'm sticking with this right now, which is one of the most formal  
addresses to another person  
  
It may take awhile before the next chapter of A Modern Day Fairytale comes out again. I   
have to finish the outline for it first before I go any further. This story is actually   
coming along quiet easily, but I might have spoken too soon since this is only part 2, there   
is about another 12 or so more parts to go. :)  
  
For the Reviewers:  
******************  
Sakki - the story is now on my website, if you are having trouble continuing, feel free to   
go there... ummm... that is if you get to this chapter ^-^;;  
Kai - ;) I'm not telling what happens to Fluffy, but am admitting that Fluffy is very sexy   
O:D  
mewie9 - will give you more ;)  
Alyson Metallium - hmmm... but Sesshoumaru being hurt means Kagome gets to strip him and   
tend to his wounds... wait, did that sound more naughty than it should have? O:)  
Winter - Arigatou! I like 'em too. The next part though, is going to be a short little   
transition piece before I move on to the real meat of the story *wide grin* can't wait.  
SeRa - I'm updating the chapters on my website before doing it here and Winter's putting it   
on her Sesshoumaru/Kagome website, which you should check out if you haven't alread. It's   
at: http://sspark.0catch.com/ I personally recommand looking into Rymsie for all you   
Sesshoumaru/Kagome fans. She's AWESOME!  
Kou-chan - I totally agree, please bug Rymsie to finish her stories and join my crusade to   
bug her till she does finish :D  
alex - I got Pablo Neruda's book, the Book of Questions as a birthday present from my best   
friend. He is truly wonderful isn't he? If you haven't read Kahlil Gibran's The Prophet, I   
suggest you look him up too.  
bel-chan - yes mistress *bows* I shall follow your every command. Well, except the one   
where Sesshoumaru's nice... he's not. He's haughty and arrogant and suspicious and   
beautiful and a bad boy and smart.... oy... there goes my bad list for Sesshoumar ^-^;;  
chiisuta - Yes, I know it's great *polish her nails* j/k ;) I'm glad you enjoyed it and I'll   
try to update as soon as possible :)  
Inu-Baby - Sesshoumaru thinks that Kagome's beautiful, true... but will he be able to stand   
her once he regains his good senses and his haughty demeanor? Or should I ask, will she be   
able to stand him once he wakes up and opens up his big mouth :D *giggles*  
  
  
I hope you enjoyed this so far! ^-^v  
  
.blue.  
blueweber@hotmail.com 


	4. Part III Amongst the Cherry Blossoms Fal...

* Author: blue  
* Email: blueweber@hotmail.com  
* Genre: Drama/Angst/Romance  
* Summary: Born in a war torn era in Japan, a young girl witness the death of her family and   
clan to the hands of hatred, greed and power. Taken in by a mountain shrine, she becomes a   
miko of healing. That is, until a wondering and disillusioned assassin breaks through her   
peaceful world. Wounded and seeking revenge, he unwittingly finds himself depending on the   
aid of the priestess to help heal him from his wounds. There an adventure begins and a   
story that echoes through time with magick and mystery. (Sesshoumaru/Kagome)  
* Rated: PG-13 (for violence and other contents)  
  
  
The Kimono She Wore  
******************  
.blue.  
  
The mountain streams flows,  
Breaking through the ice.  
The strength of fluid steel  
Carries the scent of winter  
through the lands.  
  
  
.Part III.  
(Amongst the Cherry Blossoms Falling)  
  
  
"tokete itta kanashii koto wo   
kazoeru you ni   
kin'iro no ringo ga   
mata hitotsu ochiru"  
  
("As if counting  
the melting sorrows,  
Yet another golden  
apple fell")  
  
-- Voices  
(Macross Plus)  
  
  
Thunk.  
  
In the dim light of pre-dawn, he woke once more only without the bone jilting alarm   
that had him frozen that first time only to be greeted by the Chiisai Kawa and her calming   
smile. This time, however, he was penetrated only by his slight disorientation before his   
senses returned in languid moments. His sleep burdened eyes opened fully with an alertness   
in them that had been missing since he received his injuries. He blinked in the dim   
greyness of his room, wanting to stretch his bed-ridden body and knowing that it would   
probably do him more harm than good. So he opted to rise instead and rotating his shoulders   
to get some of the kinks out of his overly lax muscles, flexing his fingers and moving his   
arms to make sure that everything was alright and intact.  
  
The throb of pain radiating from his stomach annoyed him, itching ever so slightly   
to tell him that his unusual healing speed had not yet diminished. However, it was the   
thunking noise outside, radiating from beyond his paper screen door that drew his attention   
away from his wounds. Curious, he rose onto his knees, albeit a bit unsteadily, deciding to   
investigate where the sound was originating from. Slowly he straightened, wobbling a little   
on his feet since the absence of its use in at least two nights. His stomach grumbled in   
protest and hunger and he glared down at his body, annoyed at more than his injuries this   
time.  
  
Thunk.  
  
The fresh, white robe that the Chiisai Kawa had given him the night before was laid   
out next to his futon and he donned it on over his own nakedness. Whoever undressed him, and   
he frowned at the distasteful thought, better not have thrown out his uniform. Bloodied   
though it may be now, it was still his possession and he disliked the idea of anyone taking   
it without his permission. Running a tired hand through his tangled, silver hair, he   
stumbled forward towards his door.  
  
He hated the feeling of sluggishness, but he also knew that a breath of fresh   
morning air might quicken his body's awakening. Clumsily opening his door, he leaned   
heavily against the door frame of his room, and the sight that greeted him was startling   
under the sparkling light of the coming morning. His mind felt like that very sky above   
him, with the night driven back into the shadows and suddenly becoming crystal clear under   
the morning sun.  
  
Thunk.  
  
The memories of the previous night came flooding back into his mind. The shadowed   
woman, possibly the Chiisai Kawa, was standing at this very door step, looking in on him   
while once again he feigned sleep. He had always been a light sleeper, and though her   
approach had been soundless, her presence was a throb of power that could not be ignored.   
Gentle though that power may be and the woman that kept it, Sesshoumaru was uncertain   
exactly what the origins of the Chiisai Kawa's powers were. He had never felt something   
this persistent before. It did not bombard the senses with its essence, instead it ebbed   
and flowed like the waves caressing the sands, powerful and yet softly caressing at the same   
time.  
  
The very woman he was thinking about was now in front of him, unaware of his own   
presence as his gaze took her in slowly, trying to figure her out from his vintage point.   
The Chiisai Kawa, dressed in her miko robes stood with her legs braced and ready as she   
pulled back the bow, arrow snuggly fitted before she sent it flying towards its target.  
  
Thunk.  
  
Sesshoumaru now understood the source of the sound that had wakened him. It was in   
that moment that the sun tipped over the horizon and ascended over the misty lands. The   
morning dew sparkled in fragmented colors on the pale petals and dark branches. And as the   
thousand fingered light touched the hair and pale complexion of the Chiisai Kawa, casting   
her features into shadow, her fingers released another arrow.  
  
Thunk.  
  
She was very good, Sesshoumaru admitted to himself reluctantly. The fresh late   
spring breeze pulled at the loose petals overhead and rained damp, pink sakura blossoms down   
around the miko before him. The picture she created was enchanting as she lowered her bow,   
blinking as if waking from a dream and raised her hand from her side. A small blossom   
floated into the palm of her hand and her smile was as innocent as it was peaceful.  
  
Never, in all the years that Sesshoumaru lived, had he ever seen someone so at peace   
with her surroundings. He had been raised in court when life was once, much more luxurious   
than this, but everyone always had a hurried purpose or agenda to fulfill. When he had   
grown older, wondering the city or prowling through the streets on an assignment, the people   
all held the face of either desperation or despair, sometimes both, yet always they too   
hurried on, as if there was not enough time to live or be alive for, anymore. And when he   
had thought that there was no place left in this world that could possibly be breath taking   
in its own simple beauty, he found himself here. In this enchanted place that was cut off   
from the rest of the newly emerging world, he had finally found what he unknowingly sought   
out to find.  
  
Peace.  
  
Sesshoumaru closed his eyes and breathed in the fresh, undisturbed scent of the   
coming summer. His fingers tightening around the wood beneath his hand as he straightened   
to his full, magnificent height before stepping out into the sunlight. Here, he realized   
with a frightened and yet hope-filled thought, I could learn to live again.  
  
It was then that the Chiisai Kawa slowly turned her face to his, turning her smile   
to him, and Sesshoumaru felt his breath catch in his throat at the sight. That simple   
gesture that had been missing from his own life was in itself a small wonder to behold, a   
wonder he had all but forgotten about till now.  
  
"Ohayo," she said to him kindly. It was a word of greeting that he had not heard   
spoken with such sincerity beyond politeness for a very long time and the novelty of it all   
sent his heart racing. It left a strange and sweet taste in his mouth that lingered far   
longer than any bitterness he could have remembered in that single moment, beneath the   
dawn of a new day.  
  
  
* * *  
  
  
He brought with him the air of the city.  
  
The odd, exciting enticement of the new had filled the courtyard the moment he   
stepped out of his room and she watched him from the corner of her eyes before turning to   
him completely. Her soft greeting had startled him, that much she could tell right away,   
but it left her pondering as to why the look in his eyes held such quiet joy at such a   
simple word. Did the outside world really become so cold and foreign?  
  
Perhaps, she noted with a soft ache in her breast, and hoped that those she loved on   
the outside did not have to weather the storm like this man seemed to have had to do for   
most of his life.  
  
Even if his personality seemed to have been worn around the edges, the sharp keenness   
of his features had not. He stood out like a candle in the dark, his beauty startling in   
its intensity. At that moment Kagome wondered what he would look like after he had bathed   
and the tangles in his hair were gone. She had a sneaking suspicion that his looks would be   
almost inhuman then, and in her childish curiosity, she wanted to know how he would look   
better groomed than this. Being that this was already making her shy and nervous in his   
presence.  
  
Yet, there was a dark shadow around him that bespoke of a wound deeper than the   
slash to his stomach and the bruises covering his back. Whatever wounds that might be lower   
down, she had one of her more experienced male apprentice tend to that. After all, it was   
really the slash on his stomach that worried her more than anything else. Whoever it was   
that tried to kill him had poisoned their blade, it was a miracle he made it here and a   
miracle that he made it in time for her to save him.  
  
She rested her weight on her heels and turned to face him, her hands clasped   
together as she bowed politely. "Are you hungry?" she asked when she straightened, looking   
up at him and suddenly coming to a realization of how domineering his presence was, as well   
as how tall he was compared to her.  
  
He looked at her amused, though she knew not why and suddenly, for the first time in   
her life, Kagome felt self conscious before a member of the opposite sex. She resisted the   
urge to tug at her hair and opted to look shyly down onto the ground instead, unable to hid   
the uncertainty from her gaze. "Yes, I'm hungry." He answered at last, nodding at her even   
though she refused to look up at him to see it. She turned instead in the direction of the   
kitchen, though he did not know that at the time. The other apprentices and mikos should be   
up by now in another section of the shrine and she knew it would be best to direct him into   
their care now that he seemed to be better. But apart of her was more concerned than   
embarrassed, and so was determined to let him rest well she go about her duties as a hostess   
and a healer.  
  
"I'll be back soon," she told him as she stepped back onto the walkway, setting her   
shoes down on the edge of the steps.  
  
His hand on her wrist startled her, "I'll come with you." It was not a request,   
instead he stated like a fact.  
  
Kagome's face turned into a worried frown, "You aren't well enough to move around   
that much," she told him with a sternness in her eyes that contradicted the softness of her   
voice. He did not look away, facing her gaze stubbornly. At last she sighed in defeat,   
"Let me put some salve on your wounds first and then we can go."  
  
He nodded in agreement at her prudence and the two turned back into his room. "What   
have they done to my clothes?" He asked at last in the silence that always seemed to fall   
between the two of them. Watching her gentle hands smear the herbed cream, cool and wet   
against his skin, he had almost forgotten about his earlier dilemma. The top of his white   
robe pooled around him as she studiously studied his wounds and forced her gaze not to   
wonder. His question caused her to look up at him in question. "I hope you have not thrown   
it away." He explained when he understood the source of her confusion.  
  
Kagome noted the slight anger in his tone, "If you wish to have it back once you   
healed," she said as she reached for the new bandages, "I'll look into it for you, I   
promise." She assured him.  
  
The stranger's hand on her wrist started her once more at both his closeness and the   
tightening of his grip around her skin and bones. In that moment she felt so very small   
next to him. "You make sure of it," he told her with a warning gleam in his golden eyes   
though the threat was not entirely directed at her.  
  
She blinked at him before nodding slowly. The same old silence settling between   
them like the snow of falling petals outside, in the courtyard. When she finished bandaging   
his wounds up once more, she wondered if it would be too forward if she asked his name now.   
Gathering her courage she looked up to him and met his steady gaze, it made her catch her   
breath at his piercing beauty. She has never met anyone so beautiful in her life before,   
the realization made her voice shake slightly as she breathed out the question. "You never   
told me your name," her eyes widened at her own brazenness and covered her hand over her gasp   
of surprise as she looked up at him with a blush coloring her cheeks.  
  
The strange and beautiful man looked to her wearily at this, though the spark of   
amusement did not leave those golden depth. "Sesshoumaru," he said at last. The man named   
Sesshoumaru looked to her almost expectantly, gauging her reaction to his name.  
  
"Sesshoumaru," she repeated the foreign name. Testing the sound of it on her tongue   
as she looked into his eyes. "I don't think I can heal you, then." She said at last.  
  
If her statement surprised him, he did not show it.  
  
The sun raised its magnificent head up behind her then, shining over the tree tops   
and into the small room, throwing theirs shadows against the wooden floors. Whatever he   
found on her face was covered in the shadows of the bright light shining behind her,   
illuminating his white and golden features anew.  
  
"I didn't think you could," his voice washed over the room like the light, casting   
shadows that had not been there before. Yet even as he spoke those words, he felt her deep   
blue eyes, hooded by that same light engulf him in her wide-eyed stare. The silent tension   
between them began to rise once more like a stormy wave, separating their two worlds in a   
clear, grey veil.  
  
She did not rise to his challenge.  
  
  
to be continued...  
  
********************************************************************************************  
* Ohayo is a morning greeting in Japanese, think of it as "Good morning".  
* Sakura means Cherry Blossoms  
  
To the Reviewers  
***************  
Ehehehe ^-^;; I actually written back to everyone's feedback but I accidentally erased  
that and now am too lazy to write a replacement... would it appease your anger if I   
told you that umm... I finished the next chapter and that I'll post it as soon as I   
finish the chapter after that? *bats big bambi-like eyes at reviewers* Please don't be   
mad at me ;_; I really do enjoy and appreciate everyone's feedback O:)  
  
Hope you enjoyed the fic!  
  
.blue.  
blueweber@hotmail.com 


	5. Part IV Secrets, Unraveling A Spider's T...

* Author: blue  
* Email: blueweber@hotmail.com  
* Genre: Drama/Angst/Romance  
* Summary: Born in a war torn era in Japan, a young girl witness the death of her family and   
clan to the hands of hatred, greed and power. Taken in by a mountain shrine, she becomes a   
miko of healing. That is, until a wondering and disillusioned assassin breaks through her   
peaceful world. Wounded and seeking revenge, he unwittingly finds himself depending on the   
aid of the priestess to help heal him from his wounds. There an adventure begins and a   
story that echoes through time with magick and mystery. (Sesshoumaru/Kagome)  
* Rated: PG-13 (for violence and other contents)  
  
  
The Kimono She Wore  
******************  
.blue.  
  
The mountain streams flows,  
Breaking through the ice.  
The strength of fluid steel  
Carries the scent of winter  
through the lands.  
  
.Part IV.  
(Secrets, Unraveling A Spider's Thread)  
  
  
"kioku no hako wo  
ima sugu akete  
setsunai kako wo  
towa ni keshitai"  
  
("I want to open the box of memory  
right now  
and erase the painful past  
for eternity.")  
  
-- Kanae Anisu  
("Kibou no Sora e"/"To the Sky of Hope"  
Evangelion)  
  
  
Drip.  
  
The soft splash that a single water drop made in its descent down into the bamboo   
pipe. The stone dragon's head stared out into empty space, a fearsome scowl across its   
face, eyes slanted and narrowed as it watched and guarded over the shrine. A sparkle of fat   
water drop, unable to contain more of itself against the dragon's teeth, slipped and flew   
towards its brothers and sisters that pooled beneath the dragon's claws.  
  
Drip.  
  
It was the only sound under that few hours just before noon when the sun would be   
too hot for any more water drops to form at the mouth of the guardian of the temple. Then,   
the crystal drops would simply emerge before shimmering under the heat and evaporating   
before reaching the water pooled under the stone dragon's shadow.  
  
For now, under the shade of the bough of the cherry trees, Kagome sat in a relaxed   
pose, concentrating on her own soft breathing. The wind stirred her long, ebony hair,   
causing it to shift along her shoulders. It was the only movement from her still form. Her   
strange, blue-grey eyes were closed and her mouth was now relaxed into a soft line of pink   
brush stroke against pale skin.  
  
If she was in turmoil, her face betrayed nothing.  
  
Overhead, green and vibrant leaves wavered as well in the early summer breeze. A   
soft rustle settle over the peaceful shrine. Many in the courtyard paused to enjoy the cool   
breeze, warm and gentle before the burning sun could rule over the skies and like a   
punishing fist, crush and still that lingering wind to nothingness. Yet, for now, the sun   
was still lingering over the tops of trees, brightening the day with promise as the morning   
air permeated the grounds, stirring up the dust and leaves and grass.  
  
If the Chiisai Kawa noticed any of these small comforts, that too she did not show.  
  
It was a ritual forever practiced by all Chiisai Kawa's, before and possibly after   
Higurashi Kagome's terms of service. The mantal of duties needed one of strong disposition   
to handle such matters and to keep that demeanor, one's mind and heart must be at peace.   
The last Chiisai Kawa had taught her that the greatest power lays in when one is not in   
conflict from within, that harmony brings the greatest of all things together, be it love or   
hate, joy or sorrow.  
  
The balance must be maintained, always.  
  
Yet, since the arrival of Sesshoumaru into Kagome's life, she felt the scale tip   
dangerously from one emotion to the next. He had an unsettling force about him that she   
found both pleasant and disturbing all at once. So her own ritual began, mediating in the   
morning to calm herself before reentering into his presence once more. Sometimes she   
wondered if the wounded stranger would ever stop being an enigma to her, wondered too if she   
truly desired to discover his secrets. However, it was not only his presence that disturbed   
her, it was the air of the past he carried around his shoulders. Those tormenting chains   
that he could not escape trapped her as well.  
  
Sesshoumaru made her remember, and she liked that least of all.  
  
In the darkness behind her eyes, the constant fire burned itself into her mind.   
Souta's cries echoed in her ears as Kagome fought to keep the image of total relaxation and   
coolness. The nightmare continued, on and on it went. Image of all she loved and all who   
were gone went on throughout her mind.  
  
Kagome's fingers twitched, wanting to clutch together to lessen the pain in her   
chest that had been building with each passing moment, compounding into layers of   
inescapable waves that crashed into her. She stood it all. Stood the tear-streaked face of   
her baby brother reaching for her burnt hands. Stood the bandits hovering over her mother,   
ripping at her clothes. Still, she would not bend as her memories flashed the face of her   
grandfather lying in a pool of his own blood while strangers stood over him, gloating at his   
death. And then she remembered the dark and shadowed face of the priest that saved her,   
dragging her away from the only home she had ever known, the home that burned away before   
her tear-blurred eyes.  
  
Still she would not bend and her insides felt as if it would break.  
  
It was in that single moment she felt the eyes of another on her, studying her every   
movement. Her fingers stilled and she froze, for a moment forgetting where she was as the   
fear and self-consciousness drowned out all other concerns. Then her body began to relax   
once more once she realized who it was that was watching her.  
  
Sesshoumaru, the name that was a curse and a gift. A man of mystery and irony,   
inescapable to her as was her past. She wondered if she would ever be the same after he had   
stepped into her life, searching for help that he did not wish to receive, reluctantly   
taking as little as he possibly could.  
  
Under the shade of the sakura trees, Kagome felt her soul waver with the leaves.   
There a peace returned to her, running through her body and spreading like a soft blanket of   
warmth. Her breathing steadied and slowed as she gently swayed ever so slightly with the   
push and pull of the summer breeze.  
  
There was something in his gaze that calmed her, even if she could not see it and   
only sense it ever so slightly within herself. Still, it was enough to calm the nightmares   
within her heart and for now, it was enough.  
  
  
* * *  
  
  
Sesshoumaru paused as he passed the courtyard from his return from the nearby pine   
forest. The spicy scent of the earth and the trees still clung to his body and clothing.   
There he had been practicing and stretching out his body that had almost finished healing   
completely. The tingle on his belly reminded him of the itch that always accompanied   
healing. A slight annoyance, but something he could deal with nonetheless. He ran his hand   
along his silver-white mane, after he undid the knot that held it back during his hours   
training.  
  
He had paused on his way back to his room when he had saw the Chiisai Kawa sitting   
under the shade of the cherry trees. Her back had been turned to him, her black hair a   
flowing river, set against the sharp contrast of her white and red miko robes. And as he   
watched her, he noticed a sadness that radiated throughout her body to the point that it   
became a cord of tension, wrapped around her aura. In that moment, he sensed a magnitude of   
unshed tears so strongly forced upon him that he founded his body instinctively taking a   
step back, trying to physically escape her piercing presence. The realization froze him   
in his place, and there he stayed, rooted to the ground as he was bathed in a pain so   
powerful he feared that any movement made on his part would shatter the tenacious control he   
had over himself.  
  
Very slowly the waves of despair ebbed and slowly disappeared. Sesshoumaru turned   
his head, glancing to see if anyone else had felt this deep, hidden darkness within the   
Chiisai Kawa, but no one else in the courtyard seemed to have been affected. They moved on   
as if nothing had happened, having missed her overwhelming aura. Sesshoumaru turned his   
eyes back to the woman who no longer seemed troubled by whatever it was that had caused her   
great pain but moments ago, as if their silent sharing had lessened a burden he could not   
imagine seeing her carry, at least not in her gentle smile. Though, Sesshoumaru himself   
would be a fool to deny that there had been a graveness in her stare that he had never seen   
any woman, so young of age, carry within them. Not even in that corrupt and filthy world   
that he lived in had he ever met anyone who was so open with her affections and yet so   
closed about her heart.  
  
That pain had felt familiar to him though, and the feeling disturbed him greatly.   
In that moment, the head of Chiisai Kawa rose as if in a trance, looking up to the blue   
skies before one leg drew up and then another as she slowly rose from the ground. He   
watched all of this with a sense of unexplainable dread, wanting to turn and walk away, and   
yet, unable to. Whatever had happened between them had linked him to her in a most   
unexplainable way.  
  
It was in that moment the Chiisai Kawa turned her body slowly in his direction,   
rocking gracefully on her heels as her body shifted through the air with a fighter's grace.   
Their eyes met across the distance that separated them and Sesshoumaru drowned in the   
perfect blue of her eyes.  
  
  
* * *  
  
  
Father was the one great admiration of his existence, the rock of his world, so to   
speak. If anyone was to have asked him who he would want to be like when he became the   
leader of their clan those long years ago, Sesshoumaru would have looked at them haughtily   
in the eye at their incompetence and repeated his father's name with unmasked pride.  
  
Father's name.  
  
Funny that in the end even that was lost to him.  
  
At the age of fourteen, his younger brother was conceived. He had watched with   
fascination as father's second wife's belly stretched till she could no longer walk in her   
sandals. It had hurt to see mother crying though, under the rain. It was painful to watch   
father and mother quarrel in mother's room, their shadows shifting against the paper screens   
like a shadow play. And he, Sesshoumaru, eldest son and most beloved, watched them duel   
from the other side. Solemn and quiet, his heart broke at the angry flame that sparked   
between the two people he loved more dearly than anyone else in the world.  
  
It was then that his younger brother's mother came to stand next to him, her hand   
resting on his shoulder in an attempt to comfort. But in his own pain, he had lashed out   
and slapped her hand away. He believed then that this woman alone caused all of the   
tension, pain and petty jealousy. She, who he had once thought of as a second mother had   
betrayed them all by causing such turmoil within the family.  
  
She had betrayed him.  
  
And younger brother remained undisturbed in her belly as she stood in silence next   
to him. "I'm sorry," she had whispered that night under the starry skies as the shadows   
continue to quarrel before them. He almost didn't hear what she had whispered in the dark,   
her own agony clear in her voice. For the first time in Sesshoumaru's life he had learned   
the innocent cruelty of another's presence and lashed out with his own uncheck words that   
were meant to prick and sting.  
  
"It is not enough," he said. His voice then was already changing ever so slightly   
as he began to shed the boyishness of his body and slowly becoming a man. Sesshoumaru was   
estranged by the sound of his own voice breaking soft and clear in the cool night, standing   
by his father's new lover as he watched his household go asunder. "It will never be   
enough."  
  
And it was then that he began to see the great gap in his heart before it broke and   
shattered completely, into a million pieces of glass. There, grounded into a shining powder   
of sparkling black under the weakened light of the candle's flame, he stood hating his   
father's lover, his tiny brother whom he had yet to greet, and most importantly, himself.   
After all, was it not Sesshoumaru's fault that he had not been good enough as a son to keep   
the honor of his father's gaze turned to him? Was it not his fault that he was unable to   
protect his mother's heart from being crushed under the weight of that cruel emotion that   
the adults called "love"?  
  
In that single, piercing moment of harsh realization, Sesshoumaru vowed to make his   
father proud at whatever the cost. One day, he would be able to overcome this "love". For   
as the son of his lordly father, he shall never make that mistake and hurt another for his   
own precious pleasures.  
  
It was a promise he had kept until that fatal night where another's betrayal and a   
knife wound changed his life, forever.  
  
  
* * *  
  
  
The message sent to the mountains came in the form of a white dove.  
  
The Chiisai Kawa held the trembling bird in her hand, stroking it to a cooing   
calmness that he had never seen anyone done before. The moment was soon broken as she   
extracted the message and in a flick of her delicate wrist, the bird burst into motion from   
in between her palms and fluttered away into the cerulean sky. Turning to his questioned   
gaze to her, the Chiisai Kawa smiled and answered his silent curiosity. "No one can enter   
without a great need or desire," she said as she swept past him in her red and white robes.   
Gliding under the darkening, evening sky as the courtyard still echoed faintly of the humid   
day that past, she climbed onto the walkway before turning to him expectantly. "It is our   
way to help those in need when they need it."  
  
Sesshoumaru shrugged at this and walked towards her, climbing the same steps she had   
climbed earlier. He reached her side before turning his head to look down at her with a   
slightly amused raise of his brow, "Yet a dove can make it to where not even humans can   
tread?"  
  
A mysterious smile came upon her soft lips, pulling up into another smile. "A dove   
does not seek to gain power as man seeks to gain it."  
  
"The power of healing?" Sesshoumaru looked disgusted at the idea, "There is no use   
for that."  
  
Now it was the Chiisai Kawa's turn to look amused as her eyes traveled down from his   
gaze to stop at his mid-section, "No use, huh?"  
  
A grim line came across his mouth, and he refused to answer or correct his earlier   
error. Sesshoumaru only shrugged at this, dismissing the subject as he turned his back to   
her and walked down the wooden walkway. She followed behind him quietly as they approached   
the dining hall, sliding open the rice-paper doorway to be greeted by friendly, smiling   
faces of apprentices and mikos alike.  
  
The buzz of conversation resumed once the two were seated. As always Sesshoumaru   
did not join the conversation, not even when spoken to. At first, many thought him rude and   
so ignored him, but now used to his habits, others still spoke to him even if knowing he   
would not answer. In fact, it has become somewhat of a game during dinnertime to see who   
would be the first to get a rise out of him. Through it all, the Chiisai Kawa glanced to   
him with a strange amusement dancing in her eyes, unsettling Sesshoumaru with her sidelong   
stares before she would turn to another apprentice or miko who would speak to her with   
amiable laughter and jokes.  
  
"Really, Chiisai Kawa-sama," a young girl with large brown eyes that were filled   
with laughter, scratched the bridge of her nose in thought as she snuck another glance at   
Sesshoumaru, much to his annoyance. "I don't believe I've ever met a man more groomed than   
our guest here," obviously she would be the one to put out the bait this night, Sesshoumaru   
thought to himself wearily. Thankful, at least, that the Chiisai Kawa had not told any of   
the others his name. Perhaps she thought that he would eventually do the deed himself and   
left it at that. Her respect to never speaking to him directly when in front of others had   
surprised him at first, being that he had sensed a stubbornness in her when he first met her   
that he had never seen matched by any other woman. Yet, something between them had changed   
that night when he had told her his name and he had an unsettling feeling that he knew why   
and did not like the reason.  
  
However, there was the annoyance of having everyone call him a guest now whenever   
they spoke of him.  
  
"Why?" The Chiisai Kawa was not about to aid her apprentices in their foolish games   
at least.  
  
The girl sighed in disappointment but pushed on nonetheless, there was a determined   
gleam in her eyes that told Sesshoumaru that there was probably a wager of great importance   
here. "Well, he does possess a feminine quality about him, wouldn't you say?"  
  
It was a bold statement, too bold for the Chiisai Kawa's liking for the miko frowned   
at her student till the other bowed her head in shame. "There will be no more wagers on   
this," for they all knew what "this" meant. "The little game is sickening and as Miya-san   
pointed out, he is our guest." The whole room was in a hush now as the miko looked about   
her expectantly, "If you want to have entertainment, find something that is less leaning   
towards cruelty."  
  
The girl named Miya was the first to raise her head, "I'm sorry, Chiisai Kawa-sama."   
She murmured in sincerity. Whatever the power Chiisai Kawa held, her forgiveness was   
unbounded as her kindness, and all who resided at the Mountain Stream loved her in some way   
that surpassed loyalty.  
  
The dark-haired miko next to him smiled at the younger girl and nodded an acceptance   
and there was a softness in the air that had not been there before. Sesshoumaru watched the   
woman beside him cautiously, unsure of the powers she commanded still and why it affected   
those around her so. Still he remained silent, trying to ponder out the mystery of it all,   
here at the Mountain Stream.  
  
  
* * *  
  
  
Under the fragile light of dusky evenings, Kagome stood beneath the slopping roof of   
her home. She had sensed his presence before he had stepped out of the shadows, but did not   
speak. She had helped him today at dinner when even she had found the comment made by Miya   
slightly disturbing and definitely rude. Not that Sesshoumaru was unmindful about his   
looks, but Kagome had been fascinated that day when he had borrowed her comb to try to brush   
away the tangles in his hair. When she saw that reaching up caused him greater pain then he   
was willing to admit, Kagome quietly knelt down behind him and gently plucked the comb from   
his fingers to accomplish the task for him. His hair fell in silver waves down his back,   
smooth and silky under her fingers. He had, of course, at first tried to stop her, but when   
she persistently moved the comb out of his reach and pointed out to him that it obviously   
caused him pain to do it himself, he retreated into a sulky silence that had amused her to   
watch. It had embarrassed her greatly when he had caught her staring after she had finished   
the task and braided the strands to ensure it would not tangle up once more, but he did not   
say anything about it to her great relief.  
  
Returning to the present time, where that same old silence had settled between them,   
it did startle her when he was the one who finally chose to speak. Sesshoumaru was not one   
for small talk, it would have been a small wonder had unraveling his past and profession not   
become favorite pastime for those who resided at the shrine. After all, danger hung over   
him like a protective cloak, mystifying those around him into a quiet awe. Still, Kagome   
did not tell the secret of his name, for she would rather her students not fear him.   
Intrigue was better than misunderstanding, Kagome decided.  
  
"You never told me your name," he said at last.  
  
His statement took her by surprise and it was moments later that she was able to   
shake it off and collect herself before answering, "I am the Chiisai Kawa," she said at   
last. "That is who I am and have become."  
  
"That is not what I am asking of you," he dismissed her excuses easily as he stepped   
up next to her, his eyes turned to the velveteen sky.  
  
It was she who averted her face to study his sharp and piercing beauty, once again   
caught in the web of her own admiration of those clean sweeps of lines that accented his   
features under the coming darkness. Somewhere a star sparked overhead, defying the dying   
sun. She knew that it was time to erect her barriers for she had no desires for Sesshoumaru   
to get close to her any more than he desired for her to be close to him. "It is better that   
you did not know," she said at last, forcing herself to turn away from the strange   
fascination she had discovered within herself whenever she looked to him.  
  
The shadows made him hauntingly more beautiful, she thought with despair. Why did   
such a man with blood on his hands, in the very utterance of his name, have such cutting   
beauty? Why did it hurt her so to look at him? And why does she still feel trapped by this   
dangerous beauty he possessed, time and again?  
  
"So thought I," he agreed, "until tonight." She blinked at this, looking to him in   
silent question. "Chiisai Kawa, they call you with adoration in their eyes," he looked at   
her then, forcing the air from her lungs to be caught in her throat. Ah, but the pain was   
sweet, she thought. "I want to know why, I want to know what it is they see in you." She   
felt as if there was more he did not say. "Tell me," he commanded her gently, as if he was   
trying to trap a butterfly so that he study the color patterns on those fragile wings, only   
it was her he was trying to trap and at the thought her heartbeat quickened in nervous   
excitement. No man had ever looked at her like that, and the feeling he was arousing in her   
made her weary of him all the more.  
  
Her hesitation was her undoing as he bore the force of his gaze onto hers and when   
her speechlessness passed, her eyes turned into a shadowed grey as the light of the last   
rays of the sun faded and the stars suddenly seemed to light the skies with their faint and   
brilliant shine. "Kagome," she whispered. Her gasp betrayed her feelings of surprise and   
she looked to him with half masked horror.  
  
"Kagome," he repeated the name to himself, his golden eyes still searching her own   
with a pensiveness she had seen only a few times before, when he wasn't being cold or   
resentful. "No wonder," he said at last, "No wonder you cannot heal me." His gentle tone   
was soothing even though his words broke through her like the cold, rushing water under the   
shaded trees of spring.  
  
Kagome's watched him turn and walk away with her wide blue-grey eyes, shining with   
slight confusion. Even then she could not help but admire the smooth line of his back and   
the faint starlight that was caught by his strange and striking hair. Even then, she   
realized, she could not help the ache within her as she touched her hand to her to her lips   
that she had wished stayed silent.  
  
Somehow, she felt suddenly very vulnerable and bare, as if in that moment she had   
given away more than her name but a part of herself that she might never be able to retrieve   
from him, again. The feeling left her drained, as she leaned against the slim red pillar   
supporting both the roof and her. In the sudden darkness she stayed, for a long time   
immersed in her own thoughts as she looked into the shadows for answers she could not find   
in herself.  
  
"Kagome," he had said her name with such familiarity that she had to blink back the   
tears that suddenly sprung up into her eyes at the memory. "Kagome," how long has it been   
since anyone murmured her name like that? She couldn't remember as she wrapped her arms   
around herself, suddenly chilled by the night air.  
  
She remained there, where he had left her to watch the moon rise. When at last the   
pale and silvery light lifted the shadows, she was nowhere to be seen.  
  
  
to be continued...  
  
********************************************************************************************  
The poem at the beginning is mine.  
  
* Sakura means cherry blossoms in Japanese  
* -san is a formal way of addressing others, not as formal as -sama but much more so than -chan  
  
For the Reviewers:  
*****************  
Kai - arigatou :) Glad that the scenery brings peace to you like it does to Sesshoumaru  
Kimmy - Here it is! But I'm not finished with the next one yet...  
ladyrissa - dun dun dun! *drum rolls* and the next chapter has arrived!  
Winter - hehehe, I just think that Sesshoumaru and Kagome makes the cutest couple ;)  
nanashi 3 - the reason will be revealed in the next chapter ;) I already written that part  
lunla - thanks for your help! I really appreciate it :)  
demon-heiress - Oh, I'm soooo glad! :) I love Inuyasha though, so I will one day write a  
romance between him and Kagome-chan, only not right now :D I think Fluffy's so cold and  
ruthless :D But with a soft inside... hehehe... I just wanna glomp him  
Voldersnort - Hmmm, I like Sesshoumaru/Kagome fics too, but there seems to be a lack of  
those around so I must fill the void with more of 'em :D  
Alyson Metallium - I'm dying to brush his hair... but that's another story ne? ^-^;; *blue  
gleefully adds more tension to the story* hehehehe ]:D  
Inu-Baby - I won't tell you, but the story will explain it. It does a little in the chapter  
after this one and it'll go deeper as the story progresses :) You'll find out all the  
answers soon enough ;) Patience, after all, is a virtue... that and I love the mystery of  
it all, it's so fun to tease O:)  
  
Hope you enjoyed the fic!  
  
.blue.  
blueweber@hotmail.com 


	6. Part V i Realizations, Heart's Discovery

* Author: blue  
* Email: blueweber@hotmail.com  
* Genre: Drama/Angst/Romance  
* Summary: Born in a war torn era in Japan, a young girl witness the death of her family and   
clan to the hands of hatred, greed and power. Taken in by a mountain shrine, she becomes a   
miko of healing. That is, until a wondering and disillusioned assassin breaks through her   
peaceful world. Wounded and seeking revenge, he unwittingly finds himself depending on the   
aid of the priestess to help heal him from his wounds. There an adventure begins and a   
story that echoes through time with magick and mystery. (Sesshoumaru/Kagome)  
* Rated: PG-13 (for violence and other contents)  
  
  
The Kimono She Wore  
******************  
.blue.  
  
The mountain streams flows,  
Breaking through the ice.  
The strength of fluid steel  
Carries the scent of winter  
through the lands.  
  
  
.Part V.  
(Realizations, Heart's Discovery)  
  
  
"Donna itoshisa ni mitasarete mo   
Kurushimi wa aru"  
  
(No matter how much one is filled with affection   
There is suffering)  
--Kanashimi ni Tamesarete mo/  
Even When Tried by Sorrow  
(Rurouni Kenshin)  
  
  
Hesitation seemed to be the most likely mood she was in whenever she was about to   
approach Sesshoumaru these days. His words and actions had left her uncertain of many   
things in her life, especially after that night when she had revealed her own name to him   
under the clear, sunset skies. It had been but two days since the arrival of the dove that   
was sent to take her once more into the outside world. Soon, as soon as possible, the note   
seemed to beg and following the urgency of that note, their preparations for the trip began   
and was now, nearly complete.  
  
She had gathered her apprentices already, picking out the ones who would come with   
her and those who would stay behind. Assuring herself that nothing had changed since the   
last time she went down the mountain, and even if things were different, Sesshoumaru was the   
least likely cause of it all. Kagome was bent on completing the task presented to her by   
the coming of the dove as quickly and as efficiently as she had always done so before.   
Soon, Sesshoumaru would be well enough to travel again anyway; in fact he was so now. When   
he is gone, life in the shrine would return to what it had been before and nothing would be   
different.  
  
Nothing.  
  
They would leave for the village in two days and there were still herbs to be   
gathered before their departure. However, it was telling Sesshoumaru of her soon to be   
absence that bothered her. Somehow, a part of her did not wish to leave him without a   
proper goodbye between the two of them, and if he was to truly to leave and to return to the   
outside world, she hoped she would be there to see him off. These strange desires gnawed at   
her for the last two nights, taking away precious hours of dreaming. They had barely spoken   
to each other since that fateful night, her avoiding him and him respecting the distance she   
was trying to put between them. It would be alright soon, Kagome repeated to herself again,   
when he's gone my mind will no longer be in turmoil.  
  
Her heart bumped clumsily against her ribcage, and she touched that part of her   
chest cautiously, fingers spreading over her miko robes and skin. She felt the dampness of   
her sweat on her clothes, the clamminess of her flesh beneath her hand. The feeling of the   
gentle thudding of her heart at the thought of Sesshoumaru before her caused her further   
agitation. "Baka," she whispered as she took a deep breath to try to calm herself.   
Whatever happened will change nothing, it can't change anything because if it does...  
  
Kagome didn't want to dwell on it anymore and forced her thoughts from that path.   
Healers and their wards will have no more the relationship beyond the welfare of the   
patient's recovery. Her job was almost done where Sesshoumaru was concerned and she needed   
to think on it no longer once he was gone. He will have no effect on her life or her   
thoughts anymore. It had always been like that before with the others, and it will remain   
that way. Stubbornly clinging to that belief, she slowly moved her hand from her chest, her   
fingers lightly scraping against the white material of her clothing before she rested them   
onto her lap once more.  
  
"It's so hot!" Miya exclaimed a little bit down the walkway. The other's loud   
voice drifted, traveling even to Kagome's ear, momentarily distracting the older woman from   
her own, unwanted musings.  
  
"I don't know how the Chiisai Kawa-sama can look so composed in this weather,"   
Tenoko complained, glancing towards Kagome with an envious frown on her reddened face. "She   
and our *guest* are the only ones who seemed to be unruffled by this horrid weather. Oh,   
Miya-chan," Tenoko cried dramatically, "when shall we overcome this torturous heat that   
burns my very soul?"  
  
Kagome had to smile slightly at this, amused by the antics of her young apprentices.   
"Tenoko no baka," Miya sighed while rolling her eyes skyward. "Anyway, our Chiisai   
Kawa-sama is probably cut from the same material as our guest. They are both beyond our   
mortal reach, I'm telling you," Miya said in a confident voice. Kagome raised a brow at   
this, noting how the others probably realized that she was eavesdropping.  
  
Tenoko raised a brow at Miya's attempts to flatter their Chiisai Kawa, and was   
determined not to be outdone by the other. "Baka, that's what I said already." Tenoko   
complained with a huff at her friend.  
  
Laughter radiated throughout the shrine as Kagome begun to rise from her previous   
perch near on the steps that led to the courtyard, her heart feeling all of a sudden   
lighter, thanks to her friends. That's right, she thought to herself, I have my apprentices   
and other mikos here with me. Kagome gently touched her damp forehead to wipe away the   
beaded sweat that left much of her bangs to cling to her skin. Sesshoumaru can't change my   
love for them, no one can. Satisfied that she had resolved her emotions at last, Kagome   
decided with a disdainful shake of her head that it was time for a cool bath, that is, if   
the shades of the pine trees had protected the small lake some ways in the forest from the   
scorching sun overhead.  
  
Now, all she needs to worry about is going to the village and telling Sesshoumaru   
that he's stay was almost up. After that, he can decide whatever path he has in mind. At   
this thought, Kagome frowned slightly. Come to think of it, Sesshoumaru probably wants   
revenge on whoever did this to him. This new idea brought an ominous feeling that overcame   
her earlier happiness, dampening her exuberance.  
  
I'll have to speak to him about that, Kagome thought to herself. Sesshoumaru's   
determined golden eyes flashed before her in her thoughts, his face set in a stony, cool   
expression that told her much about his stubbornness. Oh, it's going to be a difficult   
battle, Kagome realized. She just hoped that she had enough sense and him as well, to get   
him off of that road towards self-destruction. Whatever his past may be, revenge will bring   
him no honor and Sesshoumaru, by no doubt in Kagome's mind, was a man of great dignity and   
honor.  
  
He may be a cold fish, but he has a heart--  
  
Kagome paused at the realization of another's presence next to her own and she   
shifted her head to greet the smiling face looking down to her own. "Yohiko-dono?" This   
was the miko who had long ago found her on the steps of the shrine. She was in her late   
forties now, and her health was still amazingly well.  
  
Great eyes of the deepest brown searched her own, "Our guest is healing, little   
one." Yohiko looked thoughtfully at her, "You probably noticed this, and you will probably   
speak to him about his course for the future, am I right?" Yohiko's slyness and keen   
observations never ceased to amaze Kagome.  
  
Kagome smiled at the elder miko sheepishly, "Aa, you always knew me best next to the   
Chiisai Kawa-sama, Yohiko-dono."  
  
"Hm, but you are the Chiisai Kawa now, little one." Yohiko reminded her with a sad   
smile, "And what a wonderful heir you've become. Naru would've been proud to have seen you   
become so great a leader." Naru was the real name of the late Chiisai Kawa and no one   
called her that except Yohiko. After years of being the Naru's apprentice and finally   
taking on the mantle of miko-hood in the shrine, the older woman had earned the right to   
call the late Chiisai Kawa by her real name.  
  
"Thank you, Yohiko-dono." Kagome answered quietly.  
  
The other studied her profile as moments of silenced lapsed between them. "Ah, that   
young man weighs heavily on your mind, does he not?" Yohiko commented, noting the blush of   
embarrassment on Kagome's face when the younger miko turned to her sharply at those careless   
words.  
  
"Is it so obvious?" Kagome asked with wide-eyed horror.  
  
Yohiko laughed at this, "Does it matter? I am right, aren't I?" Kagome's silenced   
was answer enough for the other. "He would bring you great sorrow, child." Yohiko said   
gravely at last with sad eyes, not missing Kagome's bowed head, showing the younger miko's   
defeat. "But love is a strange thing, working always against the mind and many times the   
heart, as well." Yohiko tapped her head with her forefinger as if to demonstrate. The rich   
mass of thick black was showing streaks of grey already, but the older woman's stature was   
nonetheless magnificent under the heated summer sun, towering over Kagome still.  
  
"Love?" Kagome gasped. "I- I can't possibly l-love such a man." She sputtered in   
outrage and confusion.  
  
Yohiko was tempted to laugh at the younger Chiisai Kawa's expression. After all,   
Kagome was inexperienced in the workings of the heart. The child was so naive and   
inexperienced when it came to such things, even if her kind gentleness surpassed many. "Ah,   
you two are of two polar opposites, totally ironic in your togetherness. Is that what you   
were leading yourself to believe, Kagome-chan?"  
  
Of all that resided at the Mountain Stream, only Yohiko still treated Kagome like a   
child, at times, with her old endearments. "I am only here to help heal him, Yohiko-dono."   
Kagome sighed as she resited her dutiful lines, "That is the job of a healer, no more and   
no less. After all, how can I love a man who's name means pure destruction of life--"   
Kagome paused in surprise at her own slip, putting a startled hand to cover her lips.  
  
Yohiko did chuckle at this, "And you have told him your name, have you not?" The   
elder looked amused at this prospect, "A truly amazing pair you two makes," she said.  
  
"Yohiko-dono!" Kagome admonished her friend and once teacher, "There's nothing   
going on between us."  
  
The older woman shrugged, ignoring her protests. "Destruction and protection, a   
very interesting pair indeed." Yohiko murmured more to herself than to Kagome, much to the   
other's ire.  
  
"Are you even listening to me?" Kagome demanded, losing her cool and reverting back   
to the ways of her childhood but ten years ago. It was so easy with Yohiko, too easy to go   
back acting like an inexperienced youth who would let her passions for life take control of   
her.  
  
"Maa, maa," Yohiko gently admonished the flustered and frustrated Chiisai Kawa.   
"You're raising your voice too much, Kagome-chan. I may be old but I am not deaf, child."  
  
Kagome could only sigh at this tiredly, "Yohiko-dono," she said, grasping the   
other's shoulders with a determined light in her eyes. "Please, leave this subject be. It   
can never happen, and it will never work. Whatever his name is, whatever his past, I know   
from the look in his eyes and the feel of his aura, that he doesn't belong here. And I do,   
Yohiko-dono, I do."  
  
"Are you so sure, child?" Yohiko asked kindly, watching Kagome's wide-eyed surprise   
as their gazes met and clashed. The Chiisai Kawa's hands fell away at the onslaught of   
emotions brought out by such an unexpected question. "Even the Chiisai Kawa carries the   
burden of the past. She too needs to heal and be taught to carry the weight of her scars.   
Naru taught you long ago that when the time is right, those who are ready would leave this   
hidden place and learn to fly again. You are no different, Kagome-chan." Kagome looked to   
her mentor and friend with wide-eyed wonder. The girl had obviously never thought about   
this before, her breath quickened at the possibilities this meant but as quickly as they   
came, they were dismissed. "Honor, duty, all the things you so treasure and worry over, I   
can see them in your eyes, Kagome-chan." Yohiko continued, "But your honor and duty is not   
to this shrine, but to your own life and those that you love."  
  
"Those that I love are here, Yohiko-dono." Kagome insisted softly, her ire gone.  
  
"Oh?" Yohiko asked, "And what of Inuyasha? You were so willing to leave those   
  
years ago just for him."  
  
"I was a child then," Kagome said after the silence of sorrow fell over her again at   
the memories of the past.  
  
"Yes, you were a child then, not yet fully healed to take on the burden of life if   
exposed to the outside world." Yohiko agreed kindly, "But you have grown up, Kagome-chan,   
to become a strong woman." Brown eyes met her own and held her gaze, "Love does not end   
with a man, Kagome-chan, it ends when your heart ends, it ends when your life ends, and   
sometimes, not even then." Yohiko raised the head of the only daughter she had ever known,   
gently touching the other's cheek. This child had been a blessing to them all at the   
Mountain Stream and now it was time to push her a little so that she could learn to fly   
again. "You thought that the boy was your last brush with your heart, did you not? Ah, but   
you are uncertain now. Love takes on many forms, Kagome-chan, and it is not just one   
singular feeling, one singular loyalty that it expresses itself through. Instead, it goes   
on and on, like the stream that flows over the stones in its path, love changes with the   
course of time, the different people you care for, and those that deserves its attention.   
He may be your second chance, this man who reeks of death, and more importantly," Yohiko   
continued, cutting off whatever protests that was on the tip of Kagome's tongue, "You are   
his second chance to a life that is not a cycle of death and destruction, hm? The past is   
over, Kagome-chan, when you realize that, you will learn to love again."  
  
Under the oppressive heat and surrounded by the summer bugs' song, Kagome looked   
dazedly at her elder mentor. Silenced in her thoughts of both the past and the present,   
Kagome tried desperately to find herself and the truth buried in the depth of her forbidden   
heart.  
  
One drop of water finally made it past the mouth of the stone dragon, falling into   
the bamboo-pipe -- a defiant act against the scorching sun. The ripples parted ways when it   
landed, touching every surface.  
  
  
* * *  
  
  
Sesshoumaru relented the training he was putting his body through and straightened   
under the shade of the ancient pines over head. Still, the air radiated heat and sweat   
clung to his body like a second skin, shining under the few rays of sunlight that glittered   
past the thousand green needles of the pines overhead.  
  
The forest was in a lazy silence, and the occasional breeze, stiff and warm, felt   
oddly comforting. Sesshoumaru sighed as he straightened, the bokken that the priestess of   
the shrine had offered him for his stay at the shrine was gripped firmly in his hands, even   
when he dropped his arms in a much more relaxed stance. The old woman abstained with a kind   
and clueless smile when he demanded for his own weaponry, giving him, instead, this bokken   
to practice with. He could tell she had purposely refused him, even if she was acting dumb   
about it. Still, he was grateful that the bokken they gave him was heavier than most --   
weighing almost like a real kantana -- it was not made of wood except for its handle,   
instead, it gleamed white. Ivory, they called it, but the fancy name made no difference to   
him, it was still made out of bones. A suitable weapon, he thought with grim distaste, for   
a killer.  
  
Sliding the weapon past the sash around his waist, Sesshoumaru then proceeded to don   
back his gi that hung from the same sash that now held his bone-sword. Muscles rippled as   
he straightened his clothing and proceeded to return to the temporary sanctuary the shrine   
provided for him. The bandage around his torsol would soon be gone, though the Chiisai Kawa   
was sure to admonish him to keep the white bandages on for just a little longer than was   
necessary, as a precaution. Sesshoumaru was amused by her needless concern, the woman was   
aware of his astoundingly fast healing powers for the almost inhuman gift was a trait that   
ran within his family. Father always said that it was a sign from the gods that their lives   
will be filled with pain and suffering, along with the accomplishment of great-deeds.  
  
Whatever it was, the Chiisai Kawa still refused. Thinking on her made him aware of   
his earlier disturbing observation of the sudden activity bursting in the shrine. After the   
arrival of that bird, everything had gone into motion. Soon, the Chiisai Kawa had told him,   
she and the few chosen miko and apprentices would journey down the mountain to visit the   
rest of the world once more.  
  
Raising his head to look at the pale sky peeking through the trees, he noticed how   
it had greyed and the sun was no longer seen. Odd, he had not sensed the storm till now   
when his nose was filled with the sudden breeze of rain. One drop fell from the opening   
above his head and splashed brazenly against his cheek, sliding down his skin in a liquid   
kiss. Frowning, Sesshoumaru blinked at the specks of water that had splattered into his eye   
upon contact, whipping away the evidence from his skin with his hand.  
  
Sighing, he turned to head back for the temple. Not that he could escape the sudden   
downpour, Sesshoumaru noted with half a sigh, the only indication of his irritation. The   
fat drops fell more and more heavily against the thin needles of the pines, sending dust and   
liquid every which way once it reached the ground, and the scent of damp-earth permeated the   
air at the onslaught. The mists began to rise from the sun-baked grounds as he walked on   
through the forest, stubbornly refusing to acknowledge that he had somewhat lost his way.   
Sesshoumaru though, soon caught a glimpse of a shadowed silhouette as he continued his   
search for the shrine in the rain, realizing as he cautiously neared the figure that the   
person was kneeling on the wet grounds. Dark-hair, held back in a pony-tail as white-red   
miko robes adorned her figure identified her immediately, especially with that piercing ki   
he had sensed being emitted from her earlier.  
  
"Chiisai Kawa," he murmured in slight annoyance as well as surprised amusement. It   
seems like he was forever running into her in the strangest of places. Not that she hadn't   
been trying to avoid him the past few days, but he did not mind since he never intentionally   
ran into her.  
  
Dark waters rippled in his memories as he watched her bathe those weeks ago, but he   
shook away such thoughts as well when he watched her straighten, seeing stray daisies and   
daffadiles, as well as an assortment of other flowers in her hands. He had not thought the   
Chiisai Kawa was so silly and young as to resort to flower-picking as a hobby, but before he   
could continue his scorn, he watched her lift her head and straighten her back at his voice.   
Without turning, she addressed him, her hands limply holding onto grey-green stems, "I did   
not expect to find you here, Sesshoumaru."  
  
The rain fell around them, drenching their clothing and running down the strands of   
their hair in tiny streams of gathered liquid. "Nor did I since I do not know where here   
is," he replied at last, reluctant to admit how lost he had been before he had stumbled upon   
her. Having expected her to laugh at him, her silence made Sesshoumaru uneasy.  
  
The Chiisai Kawa shifted slightly before him and it was then he saw the three head   
stones that her body was obstructing earlier. Graves, and now he had his answer to his   
previous question of why she would waste time picking flowers. It was all for the dead,   
apparently. "Wasting life for death?" He asked amused. "Surprising for someone whose name   
means divine protection. Ne, Kagome?"  
  
She froze at the reference before speaking again, "You would know, wouldn't you?"  
  
Sesshoumaru might have had a haughty and sarcastic remark to her sharp reply had he   
not froze at the names he saw engraved on the stones before him. "Inu... yasha," he   
whispered in disbelief.  
  
The Chiisai Kawa looked to him sharply then, "You know him?" There was a lilt of   
surprise and hope in her voice and those wide blue eyes.  
  
At this Sesshoumaru gave a sardonic bark of laughter, "Know him?" He inquired with   
amusement, "No," his features fallen into seriousness once again, confusing the woman before   
him with the fluctuations of his moods. "He was my half-brother, but I never had the chance   
to get to know him." There was bitterness in his voice, but it was the gasp of shock   
falling from the lips of the Chiisai Kawa that drenched the earth like the falling waters   
from overhead. "Did you know him?" Sesshoumaru asked in the silence of the grey skies   
above, trying to lift the veil between them and not quite certain of his own intentions.  
  
"Inuyasha?" There was a distant look in her greying eyes that matched the storm   
overhead. "Yes," she breathed, "enough to wish I didn't." Her bitterness though was not   
lost to him.  
  
"So, the bitch died with him, did she?" Sesshoumaru inclined his head to the other   
headstone, changing the subject to ease the pain he heard in her voice. Surprising himself   
at how considerate he was acting, he decided to question himself on this later when he was   
alone again to figure out his own emotions.  
  
The eyes of the Chiisai Kawa narrowed in anger, so fast she moved that even he did   
not see the slap coming though he sensed it nonetheless. Sesshoumaru's face stung, and when   
he turned to her in his righteous anger, her shadowed face marred by rain stopped him.   
"You're crying for... her?" Sesshoumaru asked surprised. It was not just rain that ran   
rivulets down her smooth cheeks, skin that was slowly turning from pale-white to gold from   
her hours outside with the other mikos, picking herbs, practicing archery and meditating   
under the grove of the sakura trees.  
  
Even after all these years, Sesshoumaru realized in that moment he still did not   
understand women, least of all the Chiisai Kawa. How can anyone, especially someone like   
the Chiisai Kawa, honestly like that selfish, weak, and conceited fool of a woman? The   
woman who was the very cause of his father's downfall and the downfall of the household   
entire could not ever be forgiven. The woman who broke Mother's heart, who ran away like   
the coward she was and left his father to die alone. That worthless--  
  
"Oh you make me so angry!" The woman before him raged, "She was one of the kindest   
women I have ever had the privilege to meet, so don't you dare disgrace her name before her   
very grave!" He had never seen the Chiisai Kawa enraged, and her anger was as magnificent   
as it was powerful, if not but a little bit childish. Any lesser man might have been   
terrified or, at the very least, surprised, but Sesshoumaru looked down at her clutched   
fists and drenched hair, hair that hid her eyes from him at that moment and he had the   
strangest urge to see the fire burning in those calm depth. He had at first thought this   
woman was no more than a cold fish, calm and without feelings beyond pain, sorrow, solitude,   
and peace, but now he was witnessing emotions of passion, even if it were senseless anger   
directed at him.  
  
For once in Sesshoumaru's life, he was truly fascinated by a woman.  
  
"Tell me, Kagome," he said at last. Her eyes widened and she raised those ever   
changing orbs to meet his calm ones, it was the first time he called her by her real name   
since that fateful night, "What was so wonderful about the woman who killed my father, her   
own husband?"  
  
The horrified surprise in her eyes at his words confused even him, wondering what   
she felt and wanting to elicit more reactions from this fascinating creature before him.   
"Bastard," she whispered, her whole body tense from holding back another physical strike to   
scold him. His cheek still stung from the earlier slap she bestowed upon him as he   
continued to watch her under the falling rain, watching the anger return to her eyes.   
"Lies! How can you accuse her of crimes when she is already dead?"  
  
Laziness came over his features as he observed her, hiding his interest in her and   
his hatred for the dead woman she was defending. "Lies?" Sesshoumaru looked bemused, "I   
was there when she accomplished her task as the spy. I was there when she ran away with my   
half-brother still, but a babe, after killing the two people I loved above all else. I was   
there." So many memories he wished he did not have to remember, this woman brought them   
back. In that moment he hated her a little too, wanting to hurt her with his words as she   
did him with her presence, "I don't think you have a right to judge people you do not know   
-- those monsters with mortal faces."  
  
For a long time she was silent, collecting her scattered emotions before raising her   
eyes to meet his once more. "You would know, wouldn't you, Sesshoumaru?" Her mocking tone   
made him narrow his eyes as he fought back the urge to hit her. Never had he wish to hurt a   
woman so badly, but he growled a warning low in his throat instead, glaring at her with his   
slanted, amber eyes. She did not even flinch under his stare, instead she turned her head   
and looked to the stones, "I'd like to believe that Inuyasha's still alive," she said at   
last. "Your brother never returned from his journey, breaking his promise to me."  
  
Sesshoumaru blinked at her, not quite sure why she was telling him this. Then he   
blinked again, noting her guilty, downcast gaze and saw that it was her way of apologizing   
for her earlier words. "Aa," he followed her gaze. "I did not know he would grow to be an   
oath breaker."  
  
"Better that than dead," she said at last and he turned to see the trailing rain   
that fell like tears along her cheeks, but the woman next to him was obviously through with   
crying. Her fists were clenched tightly as if she could physically hold back the pain that   
she was experiencing, her eyes were now, once again, a part of the shadows and the dull,   
dewy waters.  
  
"Aa," Sesshoumaru agreed. This woman who was able to turn his emotions in every   
which way, disturbed him. No one has ever affected him so, at least none that Sesshoumaru   
could recall. "You loved him, didn't you?" Sesshoumaru never knew why he asked, never knew   
why his insides burned at the thought that his idiotic half-brother would leave such a   
powerful woman behind for the outside world when he had her heart. But he had asked and   
Kagome, the woman with so many hidden secrets continued to look at the gravestones with her   
eyes averted from his.  
  
"Yes," She turned from him again, but this time her eyes were not for him. Instead   
she looked past him to the mist and trees, past the summer rain that continued to fall   
around them unendingly. "A long time ago."  
  
The water splashed against the green tipped needles overhead, sharp with the scent   
of days gone past.  
  
  
* * *  
  
  
Tears, so many tears that she could not shed.  
  
Kagome stood before the single gravestone, silent in her grief, her face dry and her   
eyes the color of dove-grey, grey as the tearful clouds and sad mornings. Before her a   
youthful boy with hair of silver-white and wide, wild eyes stared down at the ground. His   
shoulders shook with his own sobs as she neared him from behind, young hands reaching to   
comfort. He turned, sensing her approach with that terrible light of anger and fear in his   
eyes, slapping away the only comfort she could give him then. He did not see the tears that   
came in that single moment of rejection, tears that clouded in her eyes for him and no one   
else, tears she could not shed for the woman he had lost. They were tears she could not   
share with him in his despair, now becoming hers only for a different reason than the one he   
used to grieve. Yet still they did not fall.  
  
"Inu... yasha?" She whispered with pain in her voice.  
  
He did not see her or hear her, his eyes blind as he turned and punched the pine   
behind the gravestone. "What happened here?" He growled through the pain she was certain   
that he was feeling, be it his heart or his body.  
  
"S-she didn't make it, Inuyasha. She didn't have the will to go on, not after..."   
her voice trailed off then, drowning in her guilt. It was her fault that she was not as   
skilled as the Chiisai Kawa-sama who had left with Inuyasha and a few other mikos to visit   
the village but a week past. When the party returned, Inuyasha's young mother had already   
died. Oh, but Kagome knew how close she was to saving the woman, so close that...  
  
No, not that, she mustn't think of that!  
  
"Why did she leave me? Was I such a horrible son?" Inuyasha's head was bowed as   
his body shook at his own words, snapping her out of her wavering thoughts. "Was I too   
weak, too naive to keep her safe?" And she heard the dark and angry grief in his voice when   
he screamed out for his lost mother, lost to the living world, and lost to them both.  
  
Too much, she thought and she lunged at him then, knowing he would refuse her again   
but wanting, needing to comfort him still. "Inuyasha!" She tightened her grasp around his   
waist, felt the blow of his elbows and feet when he struggled to be free from her grasp, but   
she refused to let him go. When he settled at last, panting with exhaustion, it was then   
that she felt safe enough to bury her face into his gi, knowing he could not see her   
pleading eyes. "It wasn't your fault, Inuyasha. It wasn't you fault." her grip tightened   
around him when he swore. Her whole body felt beaten and worn and so very tired at that   
time, "It's alright, it's not your fault. She loved you, said so even in the end. She   
wanted to see your face but it was not something we could have done, there was nothing we   
could have done. No one is at fault." Kagome wasn't sure who she was trying to convince   
then, him or herself. If only I hadn't said yes, if only I was prepared a little better for   
her impossible request, if only I could have saved her for him, she thought. Kagome felt   
guilt weighing heavily onto her limbs and had a hard time keeping her hold on him without   
collapsing completely. Her head throbbed from Inuyasha's earlier blows, as did her knees   
and her arms.  
  
"I didn't get to say goodbye," he said at last. "I didn't even get to say goodbye,   
damnit!" Hot tears splattered against her hands, surprising her at the feel of them against   
her skin.  
  
She turned her face against his back, pressing her guilt against the red cloth that   
separated them, her ear resting in between his shoulder blades as she listened to her own   
labored breathing and the thump of his heart beating steadily. The dry sob of sorrow was   
caught in her throat, choking her words as she spoke of her guilty heart. "I'm sorry," she   
whispered then. "I'm so sorry," whether or not he understood her apology, she never knew.   
Not then or ever would she learn of how he had felt about her words that day under the great   
pines, branches stretched overhead. She had waited for him for over five years now, still   
he had not returned to answer her silent questions on that day.  
  
The day after their scuffle by his mother's grave, Kagome had watched him walk down   
the steps of the shrine that led to the outside world, past the red torii gateway with a   
half-hearted promise to return as she looked on into the mists. Her heart shattered into a   
million pieces under the weight of her grief and her guilt as she watched him disappear   
forever from her world. She felt rejected and lost without him in the fog that had settled   
over the Mountain Stream.  
  
But that was what she deserved, for she was a murderer after all -- the murderer of   
his own mother. I didn't even get to tell him that I loved him, Kagome thought in the end   
and still thought after all the years gone past. Isn't that a strange and poetic justice to   
my own incompetence? If she ever laughed bitterly at anything it would be this. For their   
ending was not an ending at all, just an unfinished, sad story, opened with no closure for   
all of eternity.  
  
"Sayonara, Inuyasha."  
  
Her gentle whisper was left unheard, drifting like the first snowflake that   
disappeared into the melting warmth of despair.  
  
  
  
to be continued....  
  
******************************************************************************************  
The poem at the beginning is mine :)  
  
This part is split into two since it's so long and I would like the length of each part to   
be similar to all parts throughout the story. Sorry for the delay, I had to rewrite the   
whole part again because I was unsatisfied with the first draft. But it was worth it right?   
I mean, Sesshoumaru, bare-chested and practicing swordplay ;) Oh, that sounded wrong ^-^;;  
This is the first part of chapter 5, the second part will be coming soon ;)  
  
* Aa - an expression of agreement, yes  
* Baka - idiot, stupid  
* -dono - more formal than -san, less formal than -sama  
* Gi - the "shirt" worn by men during the time of ancient Japan  
* Maa - Used to appease anger, ie. "Alright now" or "Settle down" or "Sure, sure"  
* Sayonara - Goodbye, farewell  
* Tenoko no baka - "Tenoko is an idiot" or "Tenoko, you idiot!"  
  
Thank you to all of you who reviewed! I no longer have free reign over the internet like I   
did when I was in school, so I can't give out personal messages anymore :( For those of you   
who sent me emails, thank you so much for taking time out of your day! I just haven't had   
the time to reply ;_; I'm sorry! But I really do appreciate it. For those of you who   
thinks Kagome is like Kikyou, well, if you really think about it, they are the same person   
^-^;; I mixed them up because I think Kagome would be like this if she was put in a   
situation like the one she is in. A mixture of modern Kagome and old Kikyou -- before she   
became a walking corpse that is. Well, I hope this explains it! And if you are wondering   
about what happened to Inuyasha's mother... all will be revealed in time ;)  
  
Hope you enjoyed this part!  
  
blue ^-^ 


	7. Part V ii The World Outside, the Face of...

* Author: blue  
* Email: blueweber@hotmail.com  
* Genre: Drama/Angst/Romance  
* Summary: Born in a war torn era in Japan, a young girl witness the death of her family and   
clan to the hands of hatred, greed and power. Taken in by a mountain shrine, she becomes a   
miko of healing. That is, until a wondering and disillusioned assassin breaks through her   
peaceful world. Wounded and seeking revenge, he unwittingly finds himself depending on the   
aid of the priestess to help heal him from his wounds. There an adventure begins and a   
story that echoes through time with magick and mystery. (Sesshoumaru/Kagome)  
* Rated: PG-13 (for violence and other contents)  
  
  
The Kimono She Wore  
******************  
.blue.  
  
The mountain streams flows,  
Breaking through the ice.  
The strength of fluid steel  
Carries the scent of winter  
through the lands.  
  
  
.Part V.  
(The World Outside, the Face of Forgiveness)  
  
  
"kioku no hako wo  
ima sugu akete  
setsunai kako wo  
towa ni keshitai"  
  
("I want to open the box of memory  
right now  
and erase the painful past  
for eternity.")  
  
-- Kanae Anisu  
("Kibou no Sora e"/"To the Sky of Hope"  
Evangelion)  
  
  
Sesshoumaru brushed back his damp bangs beneath the umbrella-like straw hat, the   
bindings of the damned thing was irritating his skin and making him wish he had his kantana   
so he could slice the ugly piece of protection to bits. The straw cloak around his   
shoulders was too short for his height, allowing the rain to soak whatever part of him that   
was left uncovered and exposed to the elements. His hakama was drenched, not to mention   
that from below his knees, mud coated over the fabric, as well as his skin, his feet, and   
his sandals.  
  
This journey was making Sesshoumaru highly uncomfortable in the grime with each   
passing step, and he almost regretted having insisted on accompanying the priests and   
priestesses on this journey. Then again, the inhabitants of the shrine were no warriors and   
it would be foolish for them to leave the safety of the mountains without a protector during   
these times of civil unrest. Especially since their only protector was the Chiisai Kawa who   
would not be able to handle close-range, hand-to-hand combat with her bow and arrows no   
matter how skilled she may be with her weapons. In front of him he could see the Chiisai   
Kawa leading everyone on, and was slightly comforted by the thought that everyone else was   
just as dirty as himself, though he was not pleased about him being as dirty as everyone   
else.  
  
At first the summer rain had been a refreshing change to the constant heat, but it   
had made their travel difficult. A constant fog had settled over their side of the   
mountain, making it easy to lose any member that has fallen behind and so the Chiisai Kawa   
made use of one of the rough ropes they had taken with them and tied everyone together into   
a long line. Of course this slowed down progress, but it would not have been as bad if mud   
and newly sprung springs and rivers had not also got in the way of the path that those of   
the Mountain Stream seemed to be used to taking.  
  
Several times, they had to either skirt around flooding waters or wait a few hours   
for the raging river to mellow enough to cross. This added an extra five days to the   
journey that might have only taken a little bit less than a week of travel otherwise. By   
the time the weary group had tumbled onto the outskirts of the village, they were all   
exhausted.  
  
"Go rest," the Chiisai Kawa ordered them all in her quiet and commanding voice. "We   
will all need it in the morning," and without another word, she disappeared into the   
village.  
  
"Where is she going?" Sesshoumaru asked a nearby miko. The girl looked startled at   
his question for this was the first time he had spoken to anyone other than the Chiisai Kawa   
herself.  
  
Blushing, the girl took a moment to compose herself before him and looked to the   
village with worry creasing her brows. "Chiisai Kawa-sama has gone to announce our arrival,   
she will not be back before nightfall."  
  
"She is going to heal those most in need," came an older and much more dignified   
voice.  
  
They turned to see an old woman, probably in her forties or fifties. Black hair   
streaked with silver and a towering stature that had an aura of authority. "Yohiko-sama,"   
bowed the girl next to Sesshoumaru and he inclined his head politely at the woman.  
  
She chuckled at his reluctance to show submission in her presence, amused more than   
insulted. "You may leave us, Hyashi-san." The girl bowed again and turned, leaving them to   
privacy. "So you do have a voice after all," the old woman noted with a small grin once   
they were alone. "If I had not heard you speak after such a long and droughty silence, I   
would have thought you were a mute." Annoyed, he glared at her silently. "Aa," the old   
woman named Yohiko grinned, "As eloquent as ever, are we?"  
  
Sesshoumaru turned to leave but Yohiko's words stopped him in his tracks. "You are   
concerned about our Kagome-chan, aren't you?" Narrowing his eyes, he stubbornly took   
another step away, "That child pushes herself too hard, I agree, but she would not listen to   
my complaints. Had fate been kinder to her, I would not have chosen you to be the one to   
heal her, either." A great sigh and when the silence was broken again, the woman behind him   
sounded older. "But here you are, I just hope you do not live up to your namesake with   
her."  
  
Nothing could've frozen him more than those last words spoken, "She told you my   
name?" Bitter distrust made the venom in his voice harsher than it would have been. For   
some reason he felt betrayed.  
  
"No, she did not tell me your name," Yohiko said with a mysterious smile that he   
could not see from where he stood. "You had already done that." In that moment,   
Sesshoumaru's eyes widened as a flare of energy passed through him, and he experienced the   
rare feeling of surprise that frequented his life so sparsely until he had found himself at   
the Mountain Stream.  
  
"What are you?" He spun around and faced the old woman behind him. Soon, he found   
himself staring into liquid eyes of the deepest brown. Reflective pools of the soul looked   
into his, searching for the truth that he was unwilling to reveal to anyone, including   
himself.  
  
The mist and the rain obscured the old face but those great eyes bore into his in   
search of truth beyond the mask that all people wore in the daylight, "I am the miko,   
Yohiko. They call me truth speaker and sometimes, I am even known as a soul healer."  
  
Sesshoumaru narrowed his eyes and turned away, veiling his heart from his gaze as he   
looked to the village. "Then go heal her soul," he scowled.  
  
"I cannot," Yohiko sounded wistful as she continued to look at him with those   
knowledgeable eyes. "Her powers block mine, as do yours. People like you and her are not   
as easy to read."  
  
"Not very effective, are you?" Sesshoumaru asked, acidly.  
  
Yohiko only smiled with the same wistfulness in her voice, "Not when it counts to   
me." Obviously his words had no effect on the woman whatsoever, "But you just might do the   
trick, for though the truth may not set her completely free, those in search of it might   
bring her out of her shell so that she may face it on her own."  
  
"What if I don't want to help?" Sesshoumaru gritted his teeth in irritation at the   
noisy woman.  
  
"Then she will not be able to heal you, either." That soothing voice drifted   
between them and then disappeared.  
  
"I don't need to be healed," he barked and found himself alone in the gathering   
mists. Swearing angrily beneath his breath, he trudged in what he thought was the direction   
of the village.  
  
The rain continued to fall and mud continued to coat his hakama as Sesshoumaru   
passed the entrance of the village without noticing that he had now reached the rural area.   
Somewhere he heard children laughing in the distance, their voices drifting in the mists   
like phantom voices calling to the past.  
  
He paused, breathing in the smell of the earth and the rain. In the isolation of   
the dense fog, he felt safe and relaxed and strangely, at home. His muscles stopped tensing   
and his anger left him, as he looked out through the gauzy white, remembering the lost   
moments in childhood as he was engulfed within the earthly clouds of memories, memories of a   
wonderer's home.  
  
  
* * *  
  
  
Outside the paper windows, opened to let in the fresh air, Sesshoumaru sat. Hands   
supported his chin as half-lidded eyes of gold watched with a lazy grin to the damp, dark   
world outside his window.  
  
"Sesshoumaru," a loving voice caressed him like the hand in his hair as a woman with   
dark-hair and brown eyes rested next to him by the windowsill, "What are you looking at?"  
  
"The rain, it's glittering from the fire-light." He smiled as he turned to the   
woman next to him, "Isn't it pretty, okaa-san?"  
  
She laughed, "You like the rain, Sesshoumaru?" His mother asked as she leaned   
against him and pulled the little boy onto her lap. He nodded, distracted by the dark night   
outside, watching with interest as shadows and lanterns swayed in the breeze outside. "What   
a melancholy child I've born," his mother teased. "Just like your father, you are."  
  
Sesshoumaru blinked and then turned to his mother with wide, hopeful eyes. "Really,   
okaa-san?"  
  
"Yes," she answered with a faraway and distant voice. Sesshoumaru looked to his   
mother worriedly, for she seemed sadder and lonelier in that moment of silence more than she   
had ever been before.  
  
"Okaa-san?" He tugged at her hair, that flowed freely from its usual knot, let down   
since she had been resting before she had come to visit him.  
  
"Yes, Sesshoumaru?"  
  
Brown eyes turned to him questioningly as he cupped his hand against her cheek and   
petted the smooth skin awkwardly. "Feel better," he commanded gruffly though he was much   
smaller and younger than her.  
  
Laughing, she embraced him closely and somehow along the way of her amusement,   
Sesshoumaru felt the cloth on his shoulder becoming wet. Was okaa-san... crying?   
Sesshoumaru wondered, surprise flashing in his wide and golden eyes, father's eyes.   
"Okaa-san?" He wrapped his arms around her hesitantly realizing that he was too small to   
hold onto her entirely. Glaring down at his hands, he wished that one day he would grow as   
tall and as strong as father so he could protect mother from the tears that she wept in   
silence. "Are you alright, okaa-san?"  
  
Nodding silently against him, his mother never let go that night, not even when   
Sesshoumaru had fallen asleep, holding onto his mother while trying to give her as much   
comfort as he could. "Just like his father," he heard her whisper in the dark as he drifted   
tiredly into dreamland.  
  
Sesshoumaru did not understand her tears until years later, when he grasped the true   
meaning of those painful and lonely words. The words from a woman abandoned in a marriage   
that had gone from bliss to jealousy and pain. All because of one woman... But with the   
candles snuffed out in that dark room, long ago, with his mother's arms securely around him,   
his youthful self could not keep awake with the sound of the soothing rain falling outside.   
The house was as silent as ever before, still except for the cool breeze that whispered   
through the room and the pitter-patter of dewy liquid drops that fell from the sorrowful   
skies above.  
  
The gentle lull drifted through the damp air, while outside, the melancholy rain   
continued to fall. The slices of water droplets obstructed the light of the golden lanterns   
in the courtyard that lined the pathways to his memories, calling to him from the corners of   
his mind.  
  
Always, they beckoned him homeward to the solemn, silent days of peace and blissful   
ignorance.  
  
  
* * *  
  
  
Laughter lifted the veil before his eyes and before him he watched as the children   
tugged on her robes and she tiredly followed them. There was joy in the eyes of the Chiisai   
Kawa and she laughed freely with them as she watched them play, her hair wet and her   
clothing clinging to her body. He could tell she was weary, and probably cold, but it was   
her laughter that captivated him, for until then, he had never heard her laugh so freely   
before.  
  
It was like the discovery of a morning bud that blossomed into a flower, spraying   
invisible fragrance into the air as it opened its arms to the world. The sky still rumbled   
slightly off but the golden rays of the setting sun began to peek through the grey, and   
colored the grounds as the water puddles in the muddied streets glimmered. Young children   
were bringing the Chiisai Kawa flowers and she smiled kindly at them all while the mists   
began to part from around the town.  
  
There was great relief in the village at the sight of the Chiisai Kawa's coming and   
the joyous gathering in the streets soon ended as they ushered the wet and weary head-miko   
into the house of the sickest man. Sesshoumaru could tell from the weary bend of her back   
and the way her hands were limp as she held the basket of herbs on her arm that she should   
have been resting like she had ordered the rest of them, but if she chose to push herself so   
forcefully, who was he to complain?  
  
"Shamon-san," a young voice piped up as he glanced down to see a smiling face   
looking up to him. "Here!" Chubby fingers gripped a flower and he touched the petals, his   
face composed and his eyes confused. When his fingers gripped the stem more firmly, the   
child withdrew and giggled as she ran off after her friends, leaving Sesshoumaru standing in   
the streets of the dirty, run-down village.  
  
Cradling the flower in his hand, he frowned down at its beauty before death. It   
reminded him of innocence lost too soon and lives too swiftly extinguished. Dropping the   
weed in the puddle near his feet, he turned and left, determined once more about the mission   
he left behind before he was betrayed.  
  
Soon, he would leave to the West. To restore peace from the chaos, to build a better   
place to call home, and most importantly, take responsibilities for what he had been running   
away from all his life. The lanterns of his memories beckoned and he turned away, choosing   
the outside world. Changes must be brought about, innocence must be protected and   
sacrifices must be made for a better future for them all, his people.  
  
The dying lights of the sun began to fade as the Chiisai Kawa stepped out of the   
last house of a critical patient. She wiped at her weary and sweaty brow, pausing startled   
to see a vibrant, pale flower lying in the streets, dirtied by muddy waters. Stooping, she   
picked it up gently and carefully wiped away the mud that marred its beauty. Adding the   
discarded flower to her basket full of offered gifts from the village's children, a small   
smile formed upon her lips.  
  
Slowly, she trudged back towards the camp outside where the others were waiting for   
her return. It would be a long way home, she thought as she looked to the mountains. Not   
just because of the travel, but it may take awhile in the village before they could leave   
for the mountains again. There were still many people to tend to, but the weary smile did   
not leave her lips as she entered into the small camp they erected outside the town. The   
campfire was already roaring and stew was boiling over smaller fires around the large one at   
the center that was used to dry wet clothing and give off the comforting warmth needed.  
  
"Why can't we stay in the village?" a younger miko whined, having never gone on a   
journey before.  
  
Someone hushed her, "We can't since the people cannot afford to feed us and give us   
a roof over our heads when they can barely do so for their own families."  
  
"Are you just going to try to take advantage of people in need?" Another joined in   
the scolding of the youth.  
  
Huffing, the inexperienced miko sniffled in the sharp, cool air of the calm summer   
night. The chill wouldn't last, that much Kagome was sure of as she approached the fire.   
Yohiko calmly handed her a dry yukata. "Thank you," she sighed calmly and bowed.  
  
"Go change before you catch a fever," the woman instructed with a frown on her face.   
The older miko noticed the creases that belied Kagome's obvious exhaustion beneath her   
peaceful composer.  
  
"Of course, Yohiko-san. But I think I will be fine once I have a bit of your stew   
later," the smile was strained as the young Chiisai Kawa fought to not show the depth of her   
weariness before turning to go to her tent to change.  
  
When she emerged again, dry and much more refreshed, she smiled at the offered bowl.   
"Where is our guest?" Kagome asked, glancing around anxiously.  
  
"Worried about me?" An amused and slightly mocking voice interrupted the two.   
Yohiko sighed, obviously annoyed, and walked away, leaving the two of them alone to each   
other's company.  
  
Too exhausted to even bother to reply, Kagome only glanced at Sesshoumaru with   
sleepy eyes that did not reflect the slight irritation she was feeling at the moment. "You   
can take care of yourself, I'm sure." The younger miko did not even attempt to temper down   
the sarcastic lilt in her voice as she rubbed her temples with her freehand, gripping her   
soup bowl in the other.  
  
"You push yourself too harshly," he told her, ignoring her earlier comment.  
  
Surprised, she looked over to him to witness the calm, indifference in his voice   
reflecting on his face, as well. The firelight bounced off of his golden skin and amber   
eyes, his brilliant white-hair was now tinted with the glow of the flames as he pointedly   
ignored her wide-eyed gaze. "Thank you," she said softly before she turned her gaze to the   
hypnotizing flames, "for caring." Drinking her herbed soup, the two sat in a comforting   
silence as warmth spread throughout Kagome.  
  
Her eyelids drooped as she continued to watches the flames through heavy lashes,   
dozing in front of the snug heat. She never felt Sesshoumaru watching her from the shadows,   
never felt his firm and coarse hands picking her up and carrying her to her futon. Drifting   
into a blissful, dreamless sleep, she only remembered the scent of forest and rain, the   
scent of home.  
  
Sesshoumaru watched her for but a moment longer, memorizing the face of innocence as   
he kindly brushed away the strands of her hair that clung to her cheek before rising and   
leaving. Outside, he looked down at his hands, flesh that was once unmarred and soft like   
the hands of a prince and now, after years of training, fighting and killing, he was now   
looking down at the hands of a warrior, a peasant even. Flexing his fingers, he raised his   
head to the heavens and watched overhead as the stars began to peer through the parting   
clouds.  
  
The heavenly candles of forgotten things flickered in the sky, lit in the night for   
remembrances long past and the promise of an uncertain future.  
  
  
* * *  
  
  
They had been at the village for three days and news traveled that the Chiisai Kawa   
had come from the mountains again to heal those in need. Soon, travelers came from all   
over, seeking her aid. Some brought with them sores and everyday illness that were easily   
cured, others brought festering wounds and deadly viruses. Had the Chiisai Kawa not had the   
healing touch and had they not been stalked up in herbs and medicine, they might have all   
been dead by the second day.  
  
Sesshoumaru watched and listened as he sat in the corner of the suddenly bustling   
inn, hearing tales and rumors of things he had missed out on since his stay at the Mountain   
Stream. There were common news and uncertain whispers, but one thing was for certain to   
Sesshoumaru, the climax of the battles might be approaching sooner than they all would have   
anticipated. One particular group interested him more than all the others. Weary   
ex-samurais who had ran away when their old division when the others had been slaughtered   
was camping near the village when they heard of the Chiisai Kawa. Two of their fellows had   
been wounded gravely and the many of the others had minor injuries. They were grateful thus   
not at all troublesome, though Sesshoumaru had no respect for them whatsoever for abandoning   
their duties.  
  
"I've heard that Tatsu Naraku-sama is planning another attack by mid-fall," one of   
them was saying as he drank down his sake.  
  
"Not just that, the ruthless-prince had gotten rid of competition from what I've   
heard. All those opposing him had died," another agreed.  
  
"How convenient, huh?" The third piped in drunkenly, "I heard the ruthless one even   
killed his own betrothed when he discovered that she had been dallying with the enemy," A   
hiccup caused the drunken ex-samurais to laugh.  
  
Sesshoumaru grimaced with distaste but his eyes were cold when he heard the news.   
Naraku was planning his last attack having gotten rid of competitors had he? Sesshoumaru   
smiled darkly at this, amber eyes glowing in the shadows as he contemplated this event. And   
I thought I had to create a diversion to get near the bastard, another grim smile came upon   
his lips at the thought.  
  
"From what I've heard, the Lady Kikyo-sama died by his very hands." The first had   
spoken sadly, "She had been a kind soul, too innocent for the ruthless-one."  
  
"Not to mention, the one she was dallying with was a pretty big general from   
Naraku's enemies' division." Someone agreed.  
  
Sipping the sake, the leader of the ex-samurai was grave and thoughtful when he   
finally spoke, "I have heard that when the general heard this, he was getting ready to   
launch a grandiose attack."  
  
"Revenge," the man next to the leader muttered, rubbing his stump where his left arm   
should've been. "Foolish youths."  
  
"Not yet," the leader shook his head, apparently he was one of the few that were   
still sober. "Someone stopped him, that is why we might have hard battles to come in   
autumn," the leader sighed as he rubbed his temples. "If all goes wrong, innocent people   
will starve throughout the winter in both the North and the West."  
  
"Are we heading in one of those directions then, boss?" Someone asked in the crowd.  
  
"To protect the people, that is our job," the man answered and Sesshoumaru blinked.   
Perhaps, he had judged these people wrongly. "We shall head for the northwest so we are at   
the borders, that is where the main battles will take place, after all." A resourceful man   
as he was misleading, this leader seemed to be. Sesshoumaru almost smiled at this newfound   
respect for the gritty ex-general before him and pitied Naraku slightly for being foolish   
enough to lose such intelligence in his own armies.  
  
Sesshoumaru rose from his place in the corner and approached the ex-samurais' table   
through the throng of noisy patrons. "I have heard you talking of Naraku," all heads turned   
to him. He had not only spoken the name of the most feared general-prince of Japan, but he   
had said it without any suffix to acknowledge rank. In truth, Sesshoumaru was referring to   
one whom many in Japan thought of as either a god or a demon as if the other were only an   
equal to himself. "Is he traveling personally to the Northwest borders, or is he staging his   
best generals there and staying in the East?"  
  
The man next to the leader blinked, "Are you a fool to run after that monster?" He   
laughed incredulously at even the idea of such a suicidal task.  
  
Amber eyes regarded the soldier who spoke coldly and the table fell silent as the   
leader studied him closely, "Not all the rivals has died after all," he heard the man   
muttered.  
  
"Do you have the information?" Sesshoumaru demanded.  
  
"My brothers in the army of Naraku-sama were filled with lust and greed," the leader   
nodded sadly. "And for awhile, we dishonored our heritage and our old masters by following   
the path of self-destruction," one steady hand reached out to him as dark eyes met his own,   
"I am Kouga, do not mind my friend there, he had lost his arm to war for the likes of a   
selfish-dream."  
  
"Kouga?" Sesshoumaru raised a brow, "General Ookami, then."  
  
A weary smile darkened those intelligent brown eyes, "Aa, don't call this foolish   
man by such a name, the one who used to bear it died on the battlefield with his comrades   
and friends when he saw the truth. I am simply Kouga, an old samurai who shall follow the   
path."  
  
"Not so old, oath breaker," Sesshoumaru replied and though his voice never changed   
his words were harsh.  
  
A few of the drunken underlings rose sharply at that, growling as the readied to   
attack the man who dared to insult their leader. Raising one hand to still them, Kouga   
faced him unblinking, "Aa, but I have done what was right at last," he nodded as he stood.   
"Sesshoumaru-sama, I presume."  
  
"Who are you?" Sesshoumaru tensed.  
  
"I was with the General Inuyasha-sama who had lost his woman to Naraku's hands."   
Kouga shrugged, "But I have long known of your family, true Prince of the Western Lands."  
  
"So is Naraku traveling to the Northwestern borders?" Sesshoumaru asked again, not   
wanting to continue the conversation as several gasps were heard.  
  
"No," Kouga smiled, and looked Sesshoumaru directly in the eyes. Some might have   
called the man brave for facing him so boldly, but in those shrewd-brown eyes, Sesshoumaru   
saw wisdom and strength that foolhardy courage never had. "He's actually traveling to the   
borders of the West more than the North," Sesshoumaru raised a brow at this, refusing to   
show his unrest. "To visit your usurper, in fact, and to make sure his conquest over your   
lands is still kept as much a secret as possible so that it be tucked safely under his belt,  
win or lose."  
  
Sesshoumaru's smile was unnatural and brought fear to many of those facing him.   
Kouga though, did not flinch, "All the better," he said as he turned away.  
  
"You," Kouga muttered and Sesshoumaru paused at the tone of voice the other used on   
him, almost a command and a breath of disappointment. "Another foolish warrior for the road   
of self-destruction."  
  
"No," Sesshoumaru replied calmly to him, never turning back. "I am fulfilling my   
duties to my office," white-hair glimmered under the pale lights in the inn. "I am no   
oath-breaker."  
  
Kouga smiled wearily at this as he rose and his comrades watched their boss with   
uncertainty. "Friends," he said. "I'll be back before nightfall."  
  
Somber nods came as their leader disappeared out of the inn.  
  
"Boss," the man with the stump shook his head, "I hope you know what the hell you're   
doing with that boy." But the ruckus in the room drowned out the other's mutterings as the   
sake flowed and nobody heard the warning.  
  
  
* * *  
  
  
Kagome returned to the village with her arms overflowing with flower wreath. She   
smiled at them before turning to the busier part of camp where patience were still streaming   
in and laid the flowers before men, women and children, smiling as she went. Her gentle   
touches soothed aches and pains, sometimes softly instructing younger apprentices on what   
herbs were needed for the diseased and the sick.  
  
Wherever she journeyed the pain was lifted and those under her care breathed a   
little easier.  
  
"The Chiisai Kawa-sama is a miracle, indeed," an old gentleman sighed as he clasped   
to the flowers around his neck, his aching joints no longer throbbing and his body finally   
relaxing under the afternoon sun.  
  
"Yes, she's very good," the gruff looking man next to him agreed with a friendly   
smile. "Know anything about her?" He inquired.  
  
"A traveler, are you?" The old man smiled when he saw the other nod. "Our Chiisai   
Kawa-sama is a priestess of the mountains. Every few months she comes when the request of   
her aid is sent out. Every time she leaves with orphans who have no families to support   
them and they become apprentices in her mission to help those in need around the mountain."  
  
"A secret shrine?" The man beside him asked surprised.  
  
"Aa," the old man smiled. "Only those in need and deemed worthy can find their way   
to the shrine."  
  
A white-haired man came upon them, "Kouga, did you follow me here?"  
  
"Maa," the man named Kouga made a face, "You could work on your manners a little and   
be more polite."  
  
The other raised a brow at this, "You are beneath me," turning the white-haired man   
left.  
  
"He's such a rude, push-over," Kouga sighed and smiled at the old man. "Feel better   
old-timer!"  
  
"Speak for yourself," the old man replied grouchily. "You should have respect for   
your elders."  
  
"Oh, sorry!" Kouga answered sheepishly before turning and wondering off after the   
other man.  
  
"Chiisai Kawa," Kouga saw Sesshoumaru calling to the healer in his commanding voice.  
  
"Push over," Kouga muttered as he jogged after the man, lengthening his strides.   
After all, he was also curious to meet the woman who had been behind the healing of his own   
men.  
  
Approaching from behind, he saw only Sesshoumaru's back before he sidestepped and   
his eyes widened. Whistling in slow appreciation, two pairs of eyes turned to him and one   
of them were of icy disdain. "Is that your friend?" The woman asked.  
  
"No," Sesshoumaru looked thoroughly annoyed.  
  
"You're no fun, Sesshoumaru-sama," the woman gasped and blinked at him wide-eyed,   
making Kouga wonder if he had said something terribly wrong.  
  
Those grey-blue eyes looked over to Sesshoumaru questioningly, "I didn't tell him."   
The white-haired man shrugged, irritation marring his delicate features with one single   
frown.  
  
Puzzled but knowing that neither would probably answer his questions, Kouga bowed to   
the woman, "The Chiisai Kawa-sama, I presume," the calm composer came over her face   
immediately at the name. "I didn't think you would be so young or so pretty," he said   
honestly, adding a flirtatious smile onto his lips as the words rolled out easily. If fact,   
he had presumed the Chiisai Kawa to be some ugly old hag, but he wasn't about to be that   
truthful, and it wasn't like he didn't appreciate the surprise. Almost, almost he wished   
that he was slightly injured himself if she was the one taking care of him.  
  
Not quite sure what to make of him, the Chiisai Kawa bowed politely, an embarrassed   
flush on her cheeks. "Thank you," she straightened and when their eyes met again, and in   
that moment, Kouga was sure they were the perfect eyes to drown in. "Do you need assistance   
with something..." she trailed off with uncertain worry before glancing over to Sesshoumaru   
for help in understanding Kouga's presence.  
  
The white-haired man was frowning at Kouga though, and the ex-samurai had a distinct   
feeling he was treading on the other's toes for some reason. Could it be that this woman   
was... Sesshoumaru's? She was pretty enough but the two just seemed to be the total   
opposite of one another to even be considered a match. She was so calm, composed and nice!   
And Sesshoumaru, well, the other wasn't someone Kouga would want to deal with on a normal   
basis. "It's Kouga," he supplied with a grin, thinking that she would better communicate   
with him if she knew his name at the very least.  
  
"Kouga-san, do you need assistance?" She asked again, demonstrating a patience he   
knew Sesshoumaru probably lacked. Her arms, he noted, were filled with flowers as well as a   
basket of herbs. The woman just didn't seem like Sesshoumaru's type! She was almost too   
nice, too beautiful, and too patient for the man glaring at him at this very moment. She   
was a goddess and Sesshoumaru was, well, more like a very scary demon at the time, Kouga   
shivered inwardly, feeling the deadly gaze the younger man was shooting his way.  
  
"No, I'm just here to find out about the woman who's been nursing my men back into   
health!" Grinning made him look younger, that much he did know.  
  
Eyes turning into deep blue blinked at him in confusion, "Your men?" Then a spark   
of recognition came over her, "You must be 'the boss'."  
  
Blushing at the nickname he nodded shyly, "Yeah, that's me." Why is this woman   
making me so nervous? He questioned, I'm acting like a callow youth in front of her!  
  
"I'm leaving," Sesshoumaru suddenly cut in as he turned away.  
  
"Excuse me," the Chiisai Kawa bowed and began to follow the white-haired man.  
  
"Damn," Kouga muttered. "This feels like a very bad drama that imouto-chan's always   
reading about."  
  
"Hey, hey boss! You came to visit us?" Loud voices interrupted him before he could   
follow the couple that left.  
  
Sighing disappointedly, he straightened and plastered a boyish grin on his face,   
"You guys didn't think I'd leave you to die now did you?" Laughing, he glanced one last   
time in the direction that the Chiisai Kawa and Sesshoumaru had disappeared in and saw   
nothing but milling patience and visitors walking to and fro. Well, it wasn't like it was   
his business anyway.  
  
With that Kouga turned, though he had a nagging feeling he had seen the girl   
somewhere else before. But his soldiers needed him and he let the thought drift away,   
tucked into the corner of his mind for inspection, some other time.  
  
  
* * *  
  
  
"Sesshoumaru," a gentle hand rested on his arm and he stiffened at the touch.  
  
"Don't," he muttered.  
  
She immediately withdrew, uncertain of what to do. "I've been wanting to talk to   
you," she said at last.  
  
"I'm leaving for the West," he cut in.  
  
Sesshoumaru turned to her then and they faced each other on the edge of the woods,   
her hands, laden with flowers and herbs. "I know," her head was bowed and her eyes turned   
from him so he could not read the expression within those expressive orbs.  
  
For some reason, Sesshoumaru wanted to apologize but he remained silent, uncertain   
of himself and his own feelings. When Kouga had followed him and started to flirt   
indecently with her, he had been angry, though he wasn't sure why other than the fact he did   
not condone the other's actions. "What did you want to tell me?" he asked at last, not   
knowing what else he could say.  
  
"I-" she paused as if she wasn't sure herself what it was she needed to tell him.   
"If you go," she said at last, "you should go to that place where you can live in peace."   
Blue eyes lifted to him, lacking the grey sadness that had been so constant a part of her   
gaze. There was hope there... for him?  
  
"I can't," he said at last. "I have duties I have to fulfill, promises that I must   
keep."  
  
"Even if it means your own death?" Her voice rose in anger slightly but she got   
ahold of her emotions quickly and looked away again.  
  
"Yes," for some reason, Sesshoumaru wasn't annoyed at her for asking. Had it been   
anyone else, he would not have even stayed to listen to their reasons. "I have my honor,   
Kagome, I cannot let that go."  
  
Smiling up at him, those blue eyes met his in a gaze he never could recall receiving   
from her before, it was a gaze filled with that unnamed emotion that he had been running   
from all his life. "I know," her voice was slightly cracked as if she were holding back   
tears. "I know I can't stop you from leaving and that I cannot stop you from making that   
decision on which road you choose to take to your own destiny, but promise me, Sesshoumaru,"   
blue, blue eyes staring intently into his. "Promise me that for honor's sake that you will   
not choose the road of self-destruction, not that road that vengeance usually takes."  
  
"It is not for vengeance that I must leave," he answered with a smile she had never   
seen grace his lips before. "It is for honor and for my father."  
  
Kagome bowed to him then and slowly rose, "When are you leaving?" She asked, her   
voice bearing the respect and the dignity that he had so admired her for.  
  
"Tonight," he answered.  
  
"So soon," she bit her lips at those words and a weary smile came over her. "Good   
luck then, Sesshoumaru. I'll see you in camp and tell the others to get some medicine and   
bandages for you before you leave. Is there food supplies you need?"  
  
"You don't have to do this for me, Kagome," he began, not wanting her to go into all  
that trouble just for him.  
  
"That's the second time you said me name," she whispered absent-mindedly instead and   
he was left speechless as her gaze turned from him. "When you are ready to leave," she   
paused again before shaking her head as if to clear it. "Come get me before you leave," she   
finished and then walked away, back into the camp, without ever looking back at him.  
  
Sesshoumaru stood by the edge of the forest while the noonday sun cast shadows onto   
the ground, watching her back disappear from sight with that same unnamed emotion in his   
amber gaze.  
  
  
  
to be continued...  
  
********************************************************************************************  
Poem. Beginning. Mine. (Is this getting as old for me as for you?)  
  
* Aa - Yes  
* Hakama - okay, think of this as pants. This is what men mostly wore way back when in   
ancient Japan. ^-^v  
* Gi - this is sort of like a jacket that men wore as well. I certainly can't say   
Sesshoumaru is wearing a kimono *burst out into giggles* though the idea of him in one is   
hilarious! Oh, he'd be so pissed if he had to dress like a girl since he's pretty enough to   
be one already ;) *chuckles at endless mental images*  
* Imouto-chan - Little sister  
* Maa - Used to calm others, thing of it as "there, there" or "Alright now" or "Settle down"  
* Oi - Alone the lines of a "hey!", usually used to get attention from others  
* Okaa-san - mother (it's a formal form but it shows respect), so mother instead of mama or   
whatever. Come on, can you REALLY imagine even chibi-Sesshoumaru being informal?   
Kami-sama, that man is like a walking rule-book, I swear! LOL! I know I know, at least   
he's a cute one, ne? ;)  
* Shamon - wandering Buddhist monk ( *snickers* the idea of Sesshoumaru being a monk... what   
a stupid kid. )  
  
  
How was that? ^-^v I really liked this chapter that got a lot longer and a lot more out of   
hand than any previous chapters before :) Don't you like it though? And as bit by bit, the   
past is revealed, the plan for this story is slowly changing... but what is an author to do?   
At the beginning I didn't know my characters as well, ne? And now I do ;) Okay so what if   
the characters are slightly OOC... this IS an AU O:) I have an excuse at least. And wow!   
The length! It WAS actually half this length and oi, oi, I'm not exactly sure HOW Kouga   
showed up but he did... just little unexpected things like these that makes an author's day   
worthwhile, ne? Oh, and yes, Kouga is older than Sesshoumaru in this fic (and they are ALL   
human beings... a few with interesting attributes, i.e. Sesshoumaru with his super-natural   
healing, etc. but lots of references and names similar to the anime just as little teasers   
with the familiar, also, think of this as sort of a what-if... umm... like what if there   
were never demons just human beings doing what they had to do in a war-torn country, you get   
the idea) Yes, Kouga is WAY older than Inuyasha AND he WAS an ex-general under Naraku   
*gasp* plus since he's more mature... he's a lot more SEXY too (when he isn't pretending to   
be an immature ass, that is) :D Muwhahahahahahahaha! Oh, but he's still arrogant, and he   
treats Inuyasha like the kid that the cute, white-doggy-earless *sniffles regretfully in the   
background* boy that Inuyasha is, whom, of course, Kouga looks down on whenever he can (all   
the things we love him for, ne?) ;) Why did the author choose to keep the hair color of both  
Inuyasha's and Sesshoumaru's silver-white? I can understand the necessity of eliminating the  
super-kawaii doggy ears (though the act had been a painful one) but NOT the hair or those super-  
sexy, dreamy, amber eyes! No way in hell! *giggles in delight* More of this will be coming  
your way, but a little slowly since I'm finishing this HUGE epic of mine for Sailor Moon that I  
have been working on for about two years now, yup yup yup, some of us are really slow... so this  
will be put on temporary hold until I finish the last two chapters of Sheep, but I will update it  
as soon as I get spare time to write the next part inbetween the projects, I am really starting to  
get into this story anyway, so don't worry, the next update will be sometime in the next few weeks  
and I promise it will be an action packed one... I think this story is seriously leaning towards  
Fantasy/Action Adventure as I write more and more of it... anywho, I must depart and thank you all  
for your encouragements and for reading ^-^v Ja!  
  
  
  
Hoped you enjoyed the piece!  
  
blue ^-^ 


	8. Part VI i The Journey Apart, Dance of th...

* Author: blue  
* Email: blueweber@hotmail.com  
* Genre: Drama/Angst/Romance  
* Summary: Born in a war torn era in Japan, a young girl witness the death of her family and   
clan to the hands of hatred, greed and power. Taken in by a mountain shrine, she becomes a   
miko of healing. That is, until a wondering and disillusioned assassin breaks through her   
peaceful world. Wounded and seeking revenge, he unwittingly finds himself depending on the   
aid of the priestess to help heal him from his wounds. There an adventure begins and a   
story that echoes through time with magick and mystery. (Sesshoumaru/Kagome)  
* Rated: PG-13 (for violence and other contents)  
  
  
The Kimono She Wore  
******************  
.blue.  
  
The mountain streams flows,  
Breaking through the ice.  
The strength of fluid steel  
Carries the scent of winter  
through the lands.  
  
.Part VI.  
(The Journey Apart, Dance of the Shadows)  
  
  
aoi aoi sora no iro mo kidzukanai mama  
sugite yuku mainichi ga kawatte yuku  
  
(The days pass by and change,  
without us even realizing how blue the sky really is.)  
-- Fukai Mori/Deep Forest  
(Inuyasha)  
  
  
The tent itself was plain, with very little decorations of comfort within where it   
was mostly bare. There was an old, worn-down futon in one corner, a straw mat laid out on   
the bottom of the tent floor and baskets of herbs and flowers for the patients strewn in   
another corner. It was bare of all else except the neatly folded clothing next to the futon   
and a few supply bags at the foot of the beddings.  
  
But the atmosphere inside was overwhelming. The ki of the Chiisai Kawa within made   
the tent so much more than ordinary. That power that radiated with gentle softness as the   
expressive eyes of the Chiisai Kawa lifted from the bow on her lap to meet his questioning   
gaze, it was that same power that made the plainness of the tent become nothing more than a   
facade.  
  
"You wanted to see me," Sesshoumaru's tone made the question far more a statement   
than he had intended as he stepped fully into the tent.  
  
She smiled, setting the bow that she had been polishing aside, carefully, next to   
the arrows before bowing politely. "Yes," she rose and walked over to one of the brown bags   
at the foot of her futon. He raised a brow of inquiry at this action, was she giving him a   
parting gift? "I had a feeling you would not be returning with us to the Mountain Stream,"   
she said as she knelt and lifted the package in her arms. He caught the sad smile on her   
lips as she bowed her head and rose again to stand before him. "I thought that you would   
want these back."  
  
He blinked and saw that in her hand was his katana as well as the brown package. So   
intent on studying her, he had missed seeing his weapon in her possession. He reached out   
and grasped the bag, looking at her with a question in his eyes before reaching for the   
newly polished black sheath that held his sword. "What is it?" He asked, indicating the   
bag with a hint of curiosity in his voice.  
  
Shyly she smiled and avoided his gaze, "Your armor and clothing," he blinked at this   
surprised as she looked up and amusement sparkled in her eyes. "Did you truly think we had   
burned it?"  
  
Almost sheepish, he shrugged, feeling younger in her presence as the somber mood   
lifted at her smile. "The thought had crossed my mind once or twice."  
  
Blue eyes were laughing into his at the reply he gave, "I mended it instead of   
burning it," she answered lightly. "My apprentices got curious and I let them patch up your   
arm-guards." At the slight, suspicious look he shot her, she shook her head her smile still   
lingering on her lips. "No, don't worry, they know what they were doing."  
  
"Strange that priests and priestesses should know how to repair and handle weapons,"   
he said dryly.  
  
At this, the Chiisai Kawa laughed, "We aren't the best but those of the Mountain   
Stream have all come from many diverse backgrounds," she answered, her voice filled with   
mirth. "Some had been brought up in families of farmers, samurais, and even, vagabond   
princes."  
  
Sesshoumaru glanced at her sharply then and she raised a brow at the sudden change   
of his mood. "You knew," he said.  
  
"I knew what Inuyasha was, would it be a wonder that I figured out that his   
half-brother is the same?" Sesshoumaru silently cursed his own stupidity then. The Chiisai   
Kawa was obviously not a fool and even a fool would have figured that one out. Family ties,   
the very words annoyed him. "Sesshoumaru," her voice was soft once more, soothing his anger   
as he glanced over to her. "I won't tell anyone."  
  
"It would bring profit to you for I am sure there are always powerful men out in the   
world who wishes to hunt me down and take what is mine." He answered acidly, she had   
probably just sewn him his funeral clothes.  
  
There was hurt in her eyes at his words but she smiled at him nonetheless, as if she   
understood his mistrust and his pain. "I have no need for any of the profit they have to   
offer, one life is more than anything they can give me."  
  
Sentimental idealism, Sesshoumaru frowned, "I have already taken many of what you   
consider priceless lives."  
  
There was real pain in those eyes now and Sesshoumaru was getting tired of the   
guilty feeling he had whenever he realized that he was the cause of her many sorrows. "I   
know," she sighed tiredly. It was in that sigh that allowed Sesshoumaru to realized that   
though the Chiisai Kawa was younger than him by years, the burdens that she had carried may   
not have been any less than the ones he had to bare.  
  
Sesshoumaru gripped the bokken still tied to his sash as he set aside her gifts,   
reaching to take out the bokken he had been using and handing it to her. "Here," he said   
gruffly, changing the subject and directing her attention to the bone-white sword. "I have   
no need for this now."  
  
She shook her head and refused to his surprise. "It is yours, as your father had   
intended."  
  
Sesshoumaru felt his arm tremble slightly and anger burned in his eyes, "What do you   
know of my father?" He snarled.  
  
The Chiisai Kawa did not seem to be intimidated by his sudden show of anger,   
"Inuyasha's late mother came to our shrine years ago seeking shelter for both the wounds on   
her body and in her heart. With her, she carried a bundle of two swords, one for each   
brother from what she told me before her death. Inuyasha took the first sword, the second   
was waiting and it was waiting for you." So, the old woman at the shrine who had given him   
the bokken instead of his katana had indeed only been acting like a fool, but her reasons   
had far exceeded his own expectations.  
  
"It is a bokken and useless to me," the Chiisai Kawa raised a brow before reaching   
over and touching her hand on his for a moment, startling him enough that he nearly dropped   
the weapon. But those delicate fingers of her other hand ran itself against the smooth   
white bone and he heard a distinctive click at her touch and her gentle, guiding hands   
pushed against his and out came a katana made of gleaming steel, sharp and ready.  
  
"How did you know?" Sesshoumaru looked to her with both concealed awe and   
suspicion.  
  
That same kind smile graced her lips as she pushed the bokken closed. Sesshoumaru   
frowned at this and frowned even more when he couldn't pull the sword out again. "The lady   
who gave me this said," blue eyes met his own, "Only those who knows the truth of protection   
can unsheathe this sword and use it to its full potential. What looks useless may be worth   
more than gold, what looks deadly may be broken with a single blow, as life, as love, as   
trust and as loyalty."  
  
Sesshoumaru looked at the clumsy weapon in his hands, the thick shaft was actually   
no more than a sheath, now he understood why the weapon had weighed as much as his katana   
and he could not deny that he did not feel the power it imitated when the Chiisai Kawa had   
slid the sword from its bone case. It had a ki, as if it had a life of its own. "I do not   
know whether to thank you or to curse you," he said at last.  
  
"You do not need to do either but if you want, you are entitled to both," she   
answered with a real smile this time, amusement making her eyes sparkle under the   
candle-light that brightened her room.  
  
"I will be leaving before sunrise, and I do not think we will see each other again."   
He finally said gruffly, changing the subject and looking away from her ever-changing eyes.  
  
Murky grey tints began to surface in those depths of azure, looking up to meet his   
amber gaze, "We should say our goodbyes now, you mean." She was not asking, that much he   
knew. Her silence throughout dinner and her somber moodiness had told him earlier that she   
would not pretend that he was not leaving sometime soon.  
  
"Yes," it was the truth after all. Her earlier mood returned, dampening the joy   
that had but momentarily lingered in her eyes.  
  
"I wanted to thank you," she finally said after a long pause of awkward silence.  
  
"For what?" He asked, not remembering having done anything of merit to have earned   
her gratitude these last few days. Funny how the woman who saved his life was thanking him   
and giving him gifts of parting and not the other way around. He almost felt like he was   
being ungrateful or somewhat rude by only taking and never giving. But Sesshoumaru did not   
like to admit himself wrong though he liked it less to be indebt to this woman. He could   
not lie to himself though, he was gravely in debt to this woman.  
  
"For carrying me to bed when I had dozed off by the fire that first night," she was   
looking at him straight in the eyes, not hiding the modest blush on her cheeks or that same   
unnamed emotion flashing across her eyes. Somehow, this was her way of saying goodbye, her   
way of revealing her true nature in the silence of her words and the spaces between her   
breaths.  
  
Suddenly, her confession became very uncomfortable for him as if in a moment he was   
about to stumble onto some unwanted revelations that he did not wish to admit to himself   
yet. "Anyone would have done that, Chiisai Kawa." Especially since he owed her so much, it   
was, indeed, the least he could do.  
  
"You're doing it again," her whispered breath and that unnamed emotion came forth in   
her eyes, swirling and blocking out his senses and his earlier thoughts. Those painful   
words throbbed in his ears as he felt the need to get out and escape, but Sesshoumaru was no   
coward and he refused to turn away from the challenge that was set before him.  
  
"What am I doing?"  
  
He didn't want to know as she opened her mouth and those words came, and he almost   
missed their meaning as he watch her lips move almost soundlessly. But still, they   
penetrated through, hitting their marks. His heart thudded painfully at the things she said   
in that moment through those words. His face though showed none of his internal conflicts,   
instead it was a mask of calmness. "Are you afraid of me, Sesshoumaru?" She asked in that   
breathless voice and her powerful ki overwhelmed him with its unavoidable presence,   
penetrating through his own shields. "Why do you always distance yourself from me by   
calling me by my title?"  
  
"I am not afraid of you," he answered harshly, mechanically.  
  
A wistful smile, "You cannot possibly be afraid of saying my name, Sesshoumaru,"   
those blue eyes filled his vision. "You have already done so several times."  
  
"You don't know anything, Chiisai Kawa," he growled out low in his throat.  
  
"You're doing it again," and they stared at each other, both rooted to their spots   
as her hand reached out for him to touch, to reassure, like she had done so that afternoon   
when he had so harshly rejected her, like she had done just moments before when she had   
revealed to him the treasure that she had bestowed upon him. Her voice had almost been   
teasing, as if she was comfortable in his presence enough to act so familiar, but he did not   
wish to dwell on these thoughts and the sureness of her own voice broke through him once   
more with that unwelcoming question. "Whenever I get too close, you push me away. Why?"  
  
Innocent and trusting, aren't we? The voice within his head sneered as he glared at   
her hand now resting gently on his arm and fought back the urge to shake it off, fought even   
harder at the urge to cover her hand with his own as he turned his glare to her. "Why would   
I be scared of a little girl like you?"  
  
Blue, blue eyes...  
  
She didn't answer for a while, just looked at him for a long, long time. "Maybe   
we'll never find out," she smiled and her words did more damage to him with that smile.   
"Oyasumi, Sesshoumaru," she said as she extracted her hand from his stiff arm. "Sayonara   
and have a safe journey." She bowed and turned away.  
  
She was dismissing him after having left that mystery in his heart, as her eyes   
continued to whisper those same nameless emotion to him from the depth of her heart, a look   
that he caught before she had turned away from him. In that moment, Sesshoumaru was very   
angry at her for pushing him away so easily, "Goodbye, Kagome." He said with forceful   
finality, spiting out her name as if it were a curse.  
  
He turned sharply, sliding the bokken into his sash once more before bending and   
picking up his old attire and weapon. Straightening, he left the room with his hand   
clutched around his katana's sheath as the brown bag bumped against his thigh when he exited   
her tent. Sesshoumaru never turned back to see the sad murky eyes watching his retreating   
back before the tent flap closed while he exited into the night. At the edge of the camp,   
two apprentices stood waiting, one held out a bag of medicine and another gave him a horse   
already carrying food supplies.  
  
Sesshoumaru stormed out of there, furious, realizing exactly how well Kagome had   
judged his character. The little girl had practiced that ending, he was sure. Only he   
never knew that Kagome had hoped to walk him to his horse, nor that she had wished that   
somehow she could have followed him to wherever in hell in was sure to go. But fate made   
sure their parting was abrupt and swift, as if it were one that had not yet ended and would   
one day demand to be revisited so a real goodbye could be said.  
  
In the shadows of the pine the next day, Sesshoumaru puzzled over the strange words   
they had shared the night before, still unwilling to give name to that strange emotion in   
her eyes. But the sapphire orbs haunted his memories while he fought to suppress them   
grimly, unwilling to find the source of his own anger and confusion that had overwhelmed him   
the night before. And when he paused for a drink by a bubbling stream, he caught sight of   
his reflection before it was distorted. There, within the rippling waters, he found himself   
facing that same emotion reflecting back at him at the thought of her.  
  
Stubbornly, he traveled on. He had a mission after all, and in no way would he let   
a little girl get in the way of his mission, especially not just by the simple glance that   
she had bestowed upon him with those wide, blue-grey eyes. Even if they were forever burned   
into his mind's eyes in the darkness behind his closed lids.  
  
  
***  
  
  
Kagome groaned as she woke in a tent that was not her own. Momentarily disoriented,   
she tried flexing her fingers and checking to see if all of her limbs were still attached to   
her body before trying to rise. "Itai," she murmured as she gingerly touched the sore spot   
at the base of her skull, wincing slightly at the contact.  
  
"Oh, good, you're awake!" A pleasant voice cut in as she blinked and looked up.  
  
She blinked to see the firelight dance gold against the side of the tent. Strange,   
when we travel, we never sleep in tents. "Where--?"  
  
"You're safe," her eyes traveled from the hands that held her down to the warm brown   
of another's eyes just as he pulled away.  
  
"Kouga-san?" She uttered in bewilderment. "What--?"  
  
He smiled grimly from his place just a few steps away from where she lay. "What am   
I doing here? Or what are you doing here?"  
  
"Both," she said bewilderedly. Desperately Kagome tried to remember what had caused   
her presence to be in a tent with a man she barely knew.  
  
"You don't remember?" He asked though not really surprised to see her shaking her   
head slowly as she looked deep in thought. "You were ambushed on your way back into the   
mountains. There were bandits who traveled through, around here, and they heard of a   
gathering of people near the village we were at. They thought that the people would pay you   
with both food and money. We heard the commotion they were making and came," Kouga shrugged   
at this, perhaps expressing everything else that he did not say and hiding whatever it was   
that he chose not to mention.  
  
The Chiisai Kawa before him turned her head slowly away in thought. "I remember the   
men," she whispered after a period of silence. Sadness seeping into her voice as she raised   
her gaze to the flap of the tent, watching the shadows of Kouga's ronin tether before the   
fire outside. "I remembered their hunger, their greed, their desperation, and their pain.   
They came, like starved wolves preying on the weak and with their swords, cut down those   
that I had watched grow and love since youth. Some fled, others were not so lucky. But I   
was not strong enough to help either side."  
  
Kouga was grim at this as he watched the woman before her, silently listening to her   
words. "I had thought that the peace I could provide for the few would be enough," great   
eyes turned to him then, "but that is just the naive belief of a child and a coward."  
  
"You subdued them well enough by the time my men had arrived," Kouga sighed at that   
look. "You are no coward, your arrows struck many and struck true."  
  
Tears fell from eyes sad and endlessly deep, "I aimed for evil and it found the   
hearts of living men, not monsters or disease." Kouga's eyes met hers before looking away,   
unable to stare into eyes that seemed to bare his soul. Eyes that belonged to someone still   
untouched by the ravages of war, starvation and fear. She had spoke true, the world was   
falling apart piece-by-piece into a madness that was becoming more and more like a hell on   
earth.  
  
"Sometimes it happens during a time like this, Kagome-sama." He could not lie to   
eyes that seem to see all truth.  
  
"I am the Chiisai Kawa of the Mountain Stream, healer of healers." Her voice was   
like the power of a wave, caressing the sands, its strength felt but not seen. "It is time   
the healers come out of the shadows, trying to do nothing more than lessen the symptoms of a   
disease of the heart. It is time I venture out into the world to help the warriors and   
simple people fight the battles that cannot be over simply by having me watch and wait for a   
favorable end."  
  
Kouga looked to her sharply, "Kagome-same, it is best that you return to the   
Mountain Stream and stay there with those that did escape."  
  
"I am a miko trained and the Chiisai Kawa, my duties lie with the people. And the   
people have come to me in a cry for help that I can no longer ignore, for the darkness that   
fester in their hearts is something that they can no longer fight alone." She retorted with   
angry determination, eyes burning with stubborn refusal to his commands. "My arrows found   
true because the men in the woods were consumed by the demons within and I will fulfill my   
duties to the people as I was trained to do."  
  
Kouga growled low in his throat, "Woman, do you know what you speak of here? War!   
One girl-child who has never seen this darkness cannot change where many men had died and   
could not change. Go to sleep girl, you still have not yet recovered enough to make so   
drastic a decision as this and your loss of blood has obviously made you delusional."  
  
"I may not know of what you speak of," she told him in the small tent they now   
shared. "But I know that a single touch may heal a dying man if one knows where to touch,   
and a small herb may cure an illness that destroys in unimaginable ways. The cure always   
starts small, for how can men change this darkness if he has not the hope to believe that it   
is possible and that it is true?"  
  
"Hope," Kouga looked to her from the shadows, his eyes deep and dark. "I had not   
heard such a word spoken for a long time. Perhaps only foolish dreamers can think and speak   
so innocently nowadays, when in such dark nights."  
  
She smiled at him gently, kindly, and Kouga returned it with his weary one, having   
forgotten such smiles existed as well, surprised that she was not insulted by his disbelief   
in her abilities and in her hope. "What have you been fighting for if not for hope?" She   
asked him with her eyes of black-sapphire.  
  
"Survival," he answered simply. And a great weight seemed to suddenly descend upon   
him. His earlier jovialness that she had first witnessed when she had met him, melted away   
like snow to reveal barren grounds. With it, she saw a hard and embittered man, who, having   
seen too much and lost too much, numbed his heart to the world.  
  
He was so much like Sesshoumaru in this aspect, she thought with a great sadness   
that weighed her down as well. Kagome bowed her head to him then, "Then let this foolish   
dreamer thank you for letting her dream one more day and survive with you." Setting her   
hand over his, he met her gave, speechless. "Your men look up to you and your smiles and   
your jokes," she told him, remembering her patients that had spoken so fondly of their boss.   
Kouga was too shocked to pull away from her gaze, too breathless to stop her from stripping   
away the mask that he always wore. "They believe because you do, they survive because you   
survived..." her blue gaze was dark and filled with something that was innocent but not   
ignorant. It was the color of the sky just before waking to the dawn, and in those eyes he   
found what he had thought he had lost forever when he had lost everything dear to him. "And   
they will come to believe again, live again, when you do."  
  
Those words fell from her lips as easily as rain, as easily as those men corrupted   
by anger and hatred and greed had fallen at her arrows and his sword, as easily as her   
earlier tears of grief and remembrance. And it was these words that had cleansed him just   
as easily and just as simple as the warmth she so freely bestowed when she reached out   
across that small space to cover his calloused hands, hands that had been washed in blood   
too many times for wrongs that could not be divided by simple beliefs of good or evil only   
life and survival. But she had touched him, her hands not so stained for she only fought to   
protect and to help those in need, never for power as he had fought to gain, never for greed   
or hatred or anger or vengeance that he had come to believe was the only way.  
  
"Thank you," he smiled at her in a smile he had not shown in a long time as well.   
"For still believing in those dreams."  
  
That night he watched her sleep and when he had followed her, crouched close to   
where she lay dreaming, he was no longer haunted by his demons of the night or the accusing   
eyes of the people he had slain. This time he dreamt of peace and the fields of a home he   
had not seen since his youth, and in the morning he rose to greet his men with that same   
jovial smile. Only this time, his eyes reflected the newly discovered inner peace that   
visited Kouga in the darkness of his dreams, changing his stance to that old relaxed and   
confident way he had stood long ago on a battlefield when he was still a naive and arrogant   
youth, only this time the confidence was no longer marred by blind ignorance.  
  
And hope... hope once again visited the ronins in the woods, who rested at the foot   
of the great mountain, for the first time, in a long time.  
  
  
***  
  
  
In the dark days of war, the warlords fought for control of Japan, forcing the   
emperor and those close to him to flee and hide. The country churned in the chaos of the   
civil unrest, burning under the sun and the moon. Many perished, towns were destroyed,   
innocence lost forever. In those days monks and mikos walked the earth, searching for   
survivors, warning others with dire news, and bringing orphans to shrines and secret   
monasteries hidden deep in mountains and forests, untouched by unholy hands of men seeking   
nothing but powers to claim themselves gods.  
  
It just so happened that a little girl of great powers was brought to the very steps   
of an equally mysterious mountain for she was the only survivor of her village of an obscure   
clan. There a shrine rested in slumber waiting for the day that destiny calls for its   
awakening.  
  
As the wars continued, a seeming victor other than the Emperor began to emerge.   
They called him the Ruthless-Prince, one who earned his reputation for his extreme   
strategies. Tatsu Naraku was indeed cold. He was a beautiful and shrewd ruler, who gained   
his loyalties through fear and greed. Others found his title especially fitting after he   
had dealt a most horrendous deathblow to his fiancée, whom he discovered to be consorting   
with his worst enemies.  
  
Still time went, and destiny's plans began to converge more swiftly upon a point of   
inevitable collision.  
  
  
  
********************************************************************************************  
Itai - "Ouch" or "That hurts!"  
  
* I bet you thought this chapter would never come out... but it did! Ooohohohohohohohohoho!  
*pops up her neko ears* ^_^;; Yeah, it's not TOO long but I'm working on the second part  
of this chapter. Yeah, I'm splitting chapters all the time, ne? Nooooo it won't happen  
again... I hope ^_^;; I'm not so sure. I finally got this story figured out and I'm back  
in the GROOVE! But I'm also back in school... so I'm working on it ^_^;; Just be assured   
that it's NOT dead ^_^;; Thank you for all you reviewers out there for supporting me and  
nagging me and asking me when it was going to come out and kicking me when it didn't ^_^;;  
I really appreciate it! ^_^v  
  
* I bet a lot of you are going "NO! Where are you taking Sessh-chan?!" Well, he's still  
a main character, he'll show up eventually ^_~ You'll see!  
  
I'll thank everyone in the next chapter, since I've been so harried to get this one out   
^_^;;  
  
If you actually believe that I own Inuyasha.... -_-;; *patpatpat*  
  
. blue .  
. blueweber@hotmail.com .  
. http://www.megspace.com/arts/colorblue/aoi.html/ . 


	9. Part VI ii Betrayal of the Lord, The Emp...

* Author: blue  
* Email: blueweber@hotmail.com  
* Genre: Drama/Angst/Romance  
* Summary: Born in a war torn era in Japan, a young girl witness the death of her family and   
clan to the hands of hatred, greed and power. Taken in by a mountain shrine, she becomes a   
miko of healing. That is, until a wondering and disillusioned assassin breaks through her   
peaceful world. Wounded and seeking revenge, he unwittingly finds himself depending on the   
aid of the priestess to help heal him from his wounds. There an adventure begins and a   
story that echoes through time with magick and mystery. (Sesshoumaru/Kagome)  
* Rated: PG-13 (for violence and other contents)  
  
  
The Kimono She Wore  
******************  
.blue.  
  
The mountain streams flows,  
Breaking through the ice.  
The strength of fluid steel  
Carries the scent of winter  
through the lands.  
  
.Part VI. ii.  
(Betrayal of the Lord, The Empress' Jewel)  
  
"A gift and a curse,  
On this side of life."  
  
  
"The Emperor died a few months ago," Kouga told Kagome gravely while she shook her   
head in amusement at a ronin who was attempting to steal some of the food that she was   
cooking. She had smartly smacked the not-so-young ronin's hand away with the ladel she   
held, but the ex-general's words made her turn to him in surprise. The temperarily   
unprotected food was filched and the man skittered away before Kagome could take notice.  
  
Kouga found this a bit amusing and paused in his report of the outside going ons as   
he chuckled at the childish display. Even his men seemed to be in better moods now that   
Kagome had arrived in camp. That, and she definitely cooked better than any of them. If   
her presence didn't do the trick, a full stomach sure did. "You were saying, Kouga-san?"   
She nodded to him to continue now that he had her full attention.  
  
Immediately, Kouga became grave and serious, if not a bit sad at the next words.   
"The Emperor died a few months ago and upon his death bed he appointed his only daughter to   
take his place as Empress. This is all well and good except that during times like these,   
politics demands more solid confirmation of her place on the throne than the Emperor's words   
and her birth right." Kouga told her as he held a ponderous look upon his face.   
"Apparently the jewel known as the Shikon no Tama will assert her place and we have been in   
search of this elusive jewel for some time. The royal armies are gathering, but there are   
many who lusts for the throne, and an unwed Empress with no other heir to the throne has   
many weak points. The jewel may not solve all of her problems, but it is a beginning   
nontheless in eliminating some of her political enemies."  
  
Kagome idly stirred the soup in the pot that merrily boiled away, "Strange that its   
place is hidden. Wouldn't the Emperor have told his daughter its where abouts?"  
  
"Even the Emperor did not know of the jewel's whereabouts, Kagome-sama." Kouga met   
the surprised gaze of Kagome before he began the story of the mysterious jewel, the Shikon   
no Tama, and its history of blood and tears. "Afterall," he quickly explained, "The   
Emperor's great-grandfather was the last to have had a hold on it."  
  
  
*****  
  
  
The Shikon no Tama was not always so famous a jewel. Once, it was but a gift to a   
lost princess from the West who was to wed an ally of her father's. But her soon-to-be   
husband was murdered the night they were to join.  
  
Two war-lords had decided to join powers through an agreed upon marriage between one   
daughter and one son. It was a match that was quite suitable. The young girl was studious,   
well-read, and had an unusually good grasp of politics and strategy that she had secretly   
taught herself. Had her father not found so advantageous a union of marriage, she would   
have become a miko as she was thought to become since the day she was born. The young boy,   
on the other hand, was a renouned fighter and an accalimed leader, he had good skills, good   
talent, and was also, equally hard-working. They had had the luck of meeting each other   
once, after their fathers' decision, and had decided they liked each other well enough,   
though it really should not have mattered much, it made both of them glad that the other was   
someone they could see each other marry. She admired him for his bravery, his honesty, and   
his noble heart, and he admired her in return for her intelligence, diligence and grace. In   
truth, they were the perfect son and daughter, and wedding together seemed to be what   
destiny had ordained.  
  
But it was not to be, for on the night of their wedding, the young girl arrived at a   
burning house where her groom's family had been attacked. Having already been delcared dead   
by her own family, and having it be a disgrace if she returned, the young girl disappeared   
that night.  
  
She had ran, finding refuge in a nearby shrine and begged the gods with the little   
possessions she had, as gifts so that they would aid her in avenging the death of her   
would-be husband and the family that would have been hers as well. She had hoped that in so   
doing, she might regain the honor of her old family that had cast her out without a name to   
call herself, as well as avenging a man she had thought to herself, already bound to. And   
the gods listened to her outraged cries and so, sent a monk to her aid. He came to the   
shrine that very night, seeking refuge from the storm outside. The young girl, finding that   
the shrine had earlier been abandoned for whatever reasons -- perhaps a plague, or pillage   
-- served him tea with what she could find. In return, she asked him if he knew the art of   
fighting and war, and he replied, "I can teach you protection, but not death."  
  
So agreeing, she learned from him how to defend herself from the weakness that was   
natrually a disadvantage of being born a woman. The priest stayed with her for a year   
before he left her at the shrine again, and this time a priestess came by. The girl,   
serving the priestess the same tea, and asking her the same question, was answered in a   
similar fashion. The priestess had smiled when she heard the young girl's quest for   
knowledge of fighting, discreetly choosing not to delve for reasons, and instead, warned the   
child, "I can show you the way of the bow to survive, but not to kill."  
  
And from the miko, she learned how to shoot the arrow straight and true before the   
other left her by herself at the shrine once more. At last, an old man came by -- and on   
this account, many argued whether or not this old man was simply a man sent by the gods or   
one of the gods himself. She, the young girl, out of great respect, served him tea and some   
of the animal dumplings she had prepared earlier for the gods. For though he was no priest,   
she sensed that he had great power and holiness within him. So she gave the offered gifts   
to the gods, before wisely taking a few dumplings from the tray and handing it to the old   
man. Thanking her for the tea and the food -- for the road to the shrine had been long and   
weary -- the old man drank the tea and ate the dumplings graciously.  
  
"I cannot teach you to kill, much less to fight," the old man had laughed when she   
had asked the same question she had asked the previous priest and priestess. And though she   
had a feeling that the old man would answer so, she had asked nontheless out of habit, for   
this was the most important thing to her heart. "Instead, I will give you another gift,"   
and he brought out of his travel worn sack that rested by him a jewel, a most simple and   
splendid jewel that the old man named the Shikon no Tama.  
  
"Take this jewel child, for though it may not seem much, it will grant you your most   
precious wish. If your wish be evil, the jewel would reflect that same rank and angry wish,   
and if the wish be pure, so would the jewel reflect that." He told her, "But becareful what   
your heart whispers to you, for the feelings within, though solid, may be fickle come time   
and again. Hold this jewel only when you are sure of the path you wish to follow, for once   
on such a path, be it good or evil, one cannot turn back and change what one had already   
chosen." And that night, the old man stayed and in the morning, he was gone.  
  
For many days and weeks, the girl pondered what her wish would be. Perhaps, a part   
of her did not believe it could be true, and yet another part cautioned her that it is   
better to be careful than to recklessly take a gift that could be both a blessing and a   
curse. But in the end, the choice was made for her.  
  
Months had passed, before a curious flock of crows flew by the shrine and took   
shelter in the great trees near the painted eaves. "Where are you going to in so many   
numbers, birds of death?" She asked one of the many that had landed to rest on a tree   
before continuing its journey.  
  
"In the West, there had been a great battle," the bird told her through a few   
cackles.  
  
"Yes, yes," another added, "A great lord had fought a great battle against enemies   
that had murdered the man his daughter was to marry. Shamed, his daughter had ran away and   
did not return home. Having had many tragedies on a day that was supposed to be joyous, the   
great lord request to find the one who had killed his allied lord and friend."  
  
"And they said, it was the ally lord's envious brother," another answered. "One who   
did not wish to bow to his younger brother, who had been more fortunate than him in   
acquiring land and wealth. So, the evil brother murdered his own blood through fire, as   
well as his brother's family and the bride's intended."  
  
"Make war, make war," the black birds cried before allowing one of them to continue.   
"The great lord had shouted when he heard such dishonor and such evil news and after two   
years of planning, and gathering his resources, he has attacked the wicked brother. Ah, but   
the great lord has fallen to the treacheries of deceit and betrayal, and the evil   
brother-lord wins."  
  
"So we are going to where the dead are waiting!"  
  
"Where lives this brother-lord?" She demanded, and the birds of death told her and   
it just so happened that she had been clutching the jewel when such horrible news were   
revealed. Her honorable father was dead, as had her once, soon-to-be honorable husband.   
The jewel heard the wish in her heart, and the events that followed were one filled with   
that same anger, sadness, and blood that had blossomed within the girl when she first heard   
the news of such great injustice.  
  
The girl then traveled to the fortress of the man who killed the two men she honored   
most, and with her bow she strucked down his henchmen, and with her hands, she killed the   
brother. Ah, but a twist, for both priest and priestess warned her that their art was not   
used for killing, as did the old man who told her to becareful of her feeling heart. For   
the jewel had heard her hearts desires in her great despair, and even to this day, there is   
a great battle, that is said, to be still fought within the sparkling gem. And there, a   
girl lives in eternal anguish on a path she cannot stepped down from.  
  
Eternal vegeance, her heart had asked, and so that she was given. Reliving that day   
over and over again, until the moment she but kills all her enemies, then does her lonely   
quest begins once more on the night of a most dreadful fire. And it was truly a blessing   
and a curse that such a jewel had come to be in her young hands and all hands after hers.  
  
Then, who was to know that years later, a prince would find it in a great forest.   
And into the jewel he saw the conflict all men may one day face. The prince was kind and   
gentle, and knowing wisely that such powers were not for him, brought it to a shrine and   
told the keepers, "Keep this jewel safe, but never use it or look within," and bid them to   
keep it. "The jewel is a blessing and a curse, and all who hold it will share the fate of   
the one who held it first. And should any of my descendants come this way, tell them that   
perhaps, one day, a heart most pure and a soul most strong, might be able to cleanse this   
jewel of the hatred it was born into first, and show it what forgiveness means. If they   
deem worthy, give this jewel to them for I shall make it my quest to find one who can cure   
such sorrow that even the gods must have taken pity."  
  
Years passed, as they are wont to do, and his descendants did visit the shrine   
searching for the "cure" for the jewel. It had became a symbol of leadership for their   
clan, for things do change, and so did the telling of the tale as time went on, but no pure   
heart had been able to cleanse the jewel of its hate and anguish. And it fell into more   
trusted hands, returned to a hidden shrine in a bamboo forest, when one despairing lord -- a   
descendant from the stately prince -- gave up his ancestor's search. "The answer may not be   
able to be found, but it may come of its own accord," he reasoned.  
  
And so, the powerful jewel that may grant wishes of both good and evil was stowed   
away to where only the pure may tread, waiting for its day of cleansing.  
  
  
*****  
  
  
The crows were numerous, he noted as his horse trotted through the silent village.   
There, bodies were strewned over streets and broken windows, and through opened, broken   
doors he saw more bodies, piled and bloodied. The stentch was unmercifully nasty, even   
though, had it been summer, the smell would have been worse. He wrinkled his nose as his   
own horse snorted. "I know," he patted the horse's neck, "It is quite a distasteful place."   
With a gentle nudge and rising anger at the destruction of lands that once belonged to him   
and his forefathers before him, Sesshoumaru set off to go deeper into his own territory,   
territory that had once been under the proud protection of the Lords of the West.  
  
"Naraku, for this you shall pay!" He promised himself as he sent his horse to   
gallop out of the destroyed village and deeper into his own territories. "When I'm through   
with you," golden-eyes narrowed as a feral smile rested upon his lips, "you will realize   
that no amount of your trickery can win against a true lord's powers."  
  
The aura around him built powerfully as he continued down the dirt road, leaving the   
dead village he had travelled through farther and farther behind.  
  
Father, he thought as he urged himself on tirelessly, this time, I'll make you   
proud. And as he thought of this, sad brown eyes came from deep within, "Sesshoumaru,   
you're just like your father."  
  
I'll make you proud as well, Hahaue.  
  
  
*****  
  
  
"Sesshoumaru-sama," the sly voice called as he turned his head to great the   
dark-haired prince.  
  
"Naraku," he answered without the formalities of title as Sesshoumaru gracefully set   
down his tea. The other was a young and lowly general who had made a name for himself   
through trickery, deceit, and skill. But he was no noble, and thus, beneath Sesshoumaru's   
acknowledgment of any titles other than peasantry.  
  
"I see you are... getting yourself well acquainted with my neice," dark eyes shot a   
look at the seductive woman across from Sesshoumaru.  
  
His "niece" was a willowy woman with black hair and slanted eyes that hinted a sly   
nature. Though, not as calculating as the man before him, Sesshoumaru saw a great   
resemblance between them. It annoyed him to realize that Naraku had thought he could bribe   
him with lust and women. But the other had no noble blood running in his veins and it was   
expected that such lowly servants could only think thusly, for they could not separate   
themselves from physical needs.  
  
"I am here on business, Naraku," Sesshoumaru dismissed the woman without wasting   
another glance in her direction. "Not to waste my time with your whores," the indigent huff   
was soon followed by a snapping sound of the shoji closing.  
  
"Excuse my young niece, Kagura, she is a wild one and likes to have her way," Naraku   
replied calmly, though Sesshoumaru saw through his mask easily. The other was as annoyed as   
his counterpart, but the failure was noted with more grace and Sesshoumaru had a feeling   
that the other would not mistake him for an easy prey hereafter.  
  
So the games between them had risen, Sesshoumaru thought to himself with weary   
amusment. "I'm sure you are quite aware of why I allowed this meeting to occur,"   
Sesshoumaru said, dismissing talk of the woman as easily as he had of the woman herself. "I   
will not tolerate your armies encorching on my territory, no matter what reasons you have to   
give. It is not of my concern until you have stepped into my domain and I assure you, there   
is nothing you can give me that can change my decision."  
  
"Sesshoumaru-sama," Naraku finally said in a smooth voice that mimicked many of the   
nobility with good education, but it was too silky to be listened to without skepticism, too   
well acted. "I have simply come to ask for a month. My war will not involve you,   
whatsoever."  
  
"You are in my lands, thus under my protection, or so it would seem to your enemies.   
I will not make them my enemies, I will not allow them to burn my villages because of your   
armies."  
  
"Would it make a difference, Sesshoumaru-sama?" Naraku smiled darkly, "I am already   
here, and rumors are abound to spread. Why would they believe your word against rumors of   
the village people if they do not get to hear it?"  
  
Sesshoumaru narrowed his eyes, "Are you threatening me, Naraku?"  
  
"No," the other laughed, "I'm telling you the truth."  
  
"You have a week to get off of my lands, Naraku," Sesshoumaru commanded softly as he   
rose. "If not then, I will kill you myself."  
  
Naraku stood and faced him then, "Kill me?" the younger man asked incredulously but   
the look Sesshoumaru shot him silenced whatever else the dark-haired general might have   
said. "So be it," the grim line of lips pressed closed as the two men stared each other   
down. Annoyed at the pointless game of power, Sesshoumaru dismissed the man and went back   
to his earlier inspections of his estate and the wellfare of his people. It would be that   
fortnight that Sesshoumaru be attacked, and had it not been for the betrayal in his own   
household, he would have easily defended what was his and crushed Naraku then and there.   
But corruption ran deeply, more so than Sesshoumaru had earlier thought, and the deep anger   
that came was harsh and cold.  
  
He will take back what was his, and he would crush his enemies.  
  
Naraku would die.  
  
  
*****  
  
  
Kagome wondered when she had forgotten to laugh. It came out rusty to her own ears   
when Kouga had disarmingly joked about something trivial and completely light hearted. She   
had thought that in the years at the mountain shrine, she had been healed. Yet, now, in the   
real world she had realized that though her wounds may have been closed, she had forgotten   
what it was like to live and not just tend to the scars.  
  
She liked Kouga much for bringing back the joy she had forgotten herself. And   
suddenly, as she thought back, she remembered happier times that no longer brought wasteful   
regrets but a smile for what once was, as well as a brighter hope for the future. Had she   
not met the wondering ronins with a incredibly difficult mission, she would still have been   
lost, if not a bit dead. And with each joke, her laughter became more open and far easier,   
before soon she begin to wonder how she had ever lived without it nor could she remember a   
time when laughter did not come so easily.  
  
There had been amusing events at the Mountain Shrine, but as the head priestess, it   
was always her duty to appear dignified and refined. At least, she had once unconsiously   
thought it to be so. Now, now she was glad of the changes in her life that made it   
possible for her to change as well once more.  
  
"You laugh so prettily, Kagome-sama, you should do it more often." And she had   
smiled with only a hint of embarrassment as she gracefully accepted the compliment from the   
world weary captain, Kouga.  
  
"Thank you, Kouga-san."  
  
And Kouga only grinned, "It is the least I could do to repay you, for I have   
not a yen in my name to spare for aught else but equipment and food supplies."  
  
Kagome smiled, "My service is free, only what the people can repay is well enough   
for me, if they cannot, then there is no reason to ask for reward. What I do, it is reward   
enough to help the continuation of something more precious than yen."  
  
Kouga shook his head, "If only all things in life were so." he answered.  
  
"Where are we headed now?" She inquired.  
  
Kouga's face became serious at those words, "Back to the Empress, for I refuse to   
allow you to travel. It is my apologies to you, Kagome-sama, but we dearly need help with   
doctors and such, war is not so kind and much harsher to those innocent, I do not wish for   
you to see more than you must."  
  
Kagome shook her head, "I am here to help, not for my own comfort. It is my   
decision to step out of the Mountain Shrine, I have come out of that safe haven so that I   
may be able to help others."  
  
"Worse times will come, Kagome-sama. If it were my decision, I would have never   
asked you to accompany us on this journey." Kouga sighed as he ran his fingers through his   
hair, "Either way, we must return to the main camp. It has been four moons since we last   
traveled back to report, we have been away long enough and the men need some rest. I've   
heard that the Empress is gathering her powers in reply to the Ruthless-Prince's challenge.   
And as much as I hate it, the General will have to be trusted with such vast armies though   
he is still young and impetuous, that fool." Kouga spat out the names of both enemy and   
ally distastefully, "A monster, the Ruthless one is. It would be good if someone but put a   
knife in his back as he deserves no lesser treachery. That man deserve not an honorable   
death for what he had done, but the High General does not understand that stealth is   
sometimes more worthy than honor and brute force! That boy... even after losing Kikyou like   
that he has pride enough to... Oh nevermind, you do not need to hear my mutterings."  
  
Kagome watched Kouga solemnly throw more twigs into the fire, the light reddening   
his features and shadowing his eyes with hooded darkness. "Death is never honorable,"   
Kagome said to him in a whispered sorrow as she thought worriedly of a white-haired man that   
she had seen those similar features of anger, sadness, and hatred. "It is inevitable."   
That sweet face of despair and equal anguish, all of them bring revenge, hunger, and great   
evil.  
  
Yes, she had made the right decision, Kagome realized. The world was indeed, in   
desperate need of the hands of true healers, ones who could bring back that torch known as   
hope.  
  
  
  
*******************************************************************************************  
  
Wooohoooo! another one out! Just give me some time. I'm tired of making people wait for   
the next chapter, and I know it can be very frustrating. I'm really sorry about that. I'd   
like to thank everyone who's reviewed! And most of you are right, Kagome does act a lot   
like Kikyou but that's only because she's lived with nothing but duties and memories, that   
and she's not been brought up in the new era but the old. Now, in the real world, without   
shelter or safety, she will be able to see the sun a bit clearer, even at the cost of having   
to weather against the storm. Give it some time, Kagome will emerge and so will   
Sesshoumaru-sama *grin*. And so the plot thickens! (I would like to apologize for the few   
errors that are in this fic. I'm posting it now that I just finished formatting and I   
haven't had time to really look over the story and edit. But I thought you guys waited long   
enough, so here it is!) -- blue 


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